^a.  sio.  1^ 


^  PRINCETON,  N.  J.  ^ 


Presented   by   President  Pott  on. 

BX  9178  .D6  B7 
Dodd,  Ira  Seymour,  b.  1842 
The  brother  and  the 
brotherhood 


THE  BROTHER 
AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 


V 


,?\»^ 


(\\  «J« 


n.i^, 


DEC  20  1912 


THE   BROTH 


^ 


AND 


THE    BROTHERHOOD 


BY 


IRA  SEYMOUR  DODD 

Author  of  ''  A  Lesson  from  the   Upper  Room 
^^The  Song  of  the  Rappahannock j""  etc. 


NEW   YORK 

DODD,  MEAD,  AND   COMPANY 

1908 


Copyright,  1908 
By   Ira  S.    Dodd 

Published,  May,    1908 


THE    UNIVERSITY    PRESS,    CAMBRIDGE,    U.S.A. 


TO    MY   PEOPLE 

WHO    THROUGH    THESE    YEARS    HAVE    BEEN    MY 
FAITHFUL    FRIENDS 

THIS   BOOK    IS    DEDICATED 
BY   THEIR  MINISTER 


INTRODUCTORY 

The  Riverdale  Presbyterian  Church  has  a 
character  of  its  own.  The  picturesque  house 
of  worship,  built  of  the  gray  stone  native  to 
the  region  and  now  beginning  to  show  the  mel- 
lowing touch  of  time,  stands  embowered  amid 
great  trees  which  are  relics  of  the  primeval  forest. 
And  yet  Riverdale  is  in  and  part  of  New  York 
City. 

The  membership  of  the  church  includes 
men  and  women  distinguished  in  the  business 
and  philanthropic  life  of  the  city ;  it  includes 
also  those  people  whose  homes  and  work 
have  been  for  generations  in  the  immediate 
neighborhood.  « 

The  congregation  is  not  large  ;  yet  few  city 
churches  represent  so  wide  a  variety  of  worldly 
condition  or  mental  attainment.  In  the  House 
of  God  the  people  meet  together  in  a  spirit  of 
brotherhood;  there   are    no    rented  pews,  the 

[  vii  ] 


INTRODUCTORY 

church  is  like  a  family,  not  indeed  faultless, 
but  Christian.  A  pastorate  of  twenty-five  years 
with  such  a  congregation  is  a  rare  privilege. 

And  now  the  people  ask  their  minister  for  a 
volume  of  sermons  as  a  memento  of  his  quarter 
century  of  service.  If  others  besides  those  who 
have  already  heard  them  should  read  these 
sermons,  the  author  asks  a  remembrance  of  their 
original  purpose.  They  are  lessons  in  the 
gospel  of  Christ  prepared  by  a  pastor  for  his 
people.  But  the  idea  which  more  or  less  dis- 
tinctly runs  through  the  series  and  is  suggested 
by  the  title  reflects  a  truth  of  such  far-reaching 
and  present-day  importance  that  such  studies  as 
these  may  possibly  appeal  to  a  wider  audience. 

If  anything  in  this  book  should  prove  help- 
ful toward  a  clearer  vision  of  our  brother  Christ, 
showing  us  His  Father  and  ours ;  if  a  sharper 
sense  of  the  duties,  or  a  fresh  glimpse  of  the 
blessings  of  Christian  and  human  brotherhood 
should  come  to  any  one,  the  author  will  be 
thankfully  content. 


[  viii  ] 


CONTENTS 

Page 

The  Beginning  of  the  Brotherhood  .     .  i 

The  Reality  in  God  and  in  Man  ...  21 

Communion  with  Christ  in  the  Common- 
place     39 

Consider  the  Lilies 57 

The  Mutuality  of  Forgiveness  ....  73 

The  Dreadful  Prayer 91 

Woe  to  that  Man  by  whom  the  Offence 

Cometh 107 

The  Man  who  Kept  his  Life    ....  125 

The  Man  who  Looked  on  the  Dark  Side  143 

When  Recklessness  is  Precious   ....  161 

Mary  the  Blessed 181 

I  WILL  Declare  Thy  Name 205 

The  Resurrection  and  the  Life     .     .     .  225 

The  Naturalness  of  the  Risen  Lord       .  241 

The  Completed  Brotherhood     ....  255 


CONTENTS 

Pack 

Prayer  is  More  than  Asking     .     .     .     .  271 

The  Hardship  of  Faith 289 

Memorial  Day 309 

The  Bread  Question 329 

The  Mystery  of  Time 351 


[x] 


THE   BEGINNING   OF   THE 
BROTHERHOOD 


Again  the  next  day  after  John  stood,  and  two 
of  his  disciples  ;  and  looking  upon  Jesus  as  He 
walked,   he  saith.   Behold  the  Lamb  of  God  ! 

And  the  two  disciples  heard  him  speak,  and 
they  followed  Jesus. 

Then  Jesus  turned,  and  saw  them  following, 
and  saith  unto  them.  What  seek  ye  ?  They  said 
unto  Him,  Rabbi  (which  is  to  say,  being  inter- 
preted. Master),  where  dwellest  Thou? 

He  saith  unto  them.  Come  and  see.  They 
came  and  saw  where  He  dwelt,  and  abode  with 
Him  that  day  :   for  it  was  about   the  tenth   hour. 

John  i.  35-39. 


THE   BEGINNING   OF  THE 
BROTHERHOOD 

The  beginning  of  the  gospel  of  Jesus  is  the 
beginning  of  a  story  of  brotherhood.  At  the 
outset  of  the  earthly  ministry  of  the  Christ  men 
were  drawn  to  Him  in  fellowship  and  He  began 
to  share  His  life  with  them  in  friendship. 

There  is  a  wondrous  charm  in  the  story. 
It  is  a  poem  breathing  the  profound  simplici- 
ties of  nature  and  of  life. 

If  we  would  enter  its  atmosphere  and  catch 
its  meaning  we  must  remember  that  it  tells 
of  the  coming  together  of  three  young  men 
attracted  by  a  mutual  enthusiasm.  Jesus  Him- 
self was  young.  "  He  had  begun  to  be  about 
thirty  years  of  age."  John  was  much  younger, 
and  Andrew  could  scarcely  have  been  very 
different  in  age  from  Jesus.  Along  with  the 
multitude  out  of  all  Israel  drawn  by  the  soul- 
stirring  message  of  John  the  Baptist,  they  had 
come  to  the  Jordan. 

[3l 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

It  was  a  lonely  place.  No  city,  no  houses, 
were  near :  just  the  river,  with  its  slightly 
wooded  grassy  banks  and  the  bare  hills  beyond 
—  an  out-of-door  place  and  scene.  The  people 
who  thronged  it  had  come  from  far.  They 
camped  out,  they  brought  their  own  simple 
provisions,  they  lived  in  tents  or  in  extem- 
porized booths. 

The  Baptist,  whose  preaching  had  brought 
them  together,  was  more  than  a  stern  prophet 
of  righteousness.  His  denunciations  of  sin, 
his  call  to  repentance,  had  a  reason  behind 
them.  He  was  preparing  the  way  for  a 
Coming  One.  Even  when  his  message  was 
most  severe,  a  great  Hope  shone  through  it 
like  a  star. 

Many  —  and  they  the  more  earnest  ones  — 
came  to  John  at  the  Jordan  because  they  ex- 
pected the  advent  of  Messiah.  The  hope  in 
the  message  answered  the  hope  already  burn- 
ing in  their  hearts.  Among  such  seekers  we 
must  surely  place  the  first  disciples. 

We  call  them  common  men ;  simple,  un- 
educated fishermen.     But  have  we   forgotten 

[4] 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

that  in  the  souls  of  just  such  men  the  mighty 
enthusiasms  which  have  changed  the  course  of 
history  have  taken  deepest  root  and  brought 
forth  richest  fruit  ?  Have  we  ceased  to  remem- 
ber that  many  noblest  saints  and  heroes  have 
arisen  out  of  the  ranks  of  the  lowly  born  ? 

But  in  a  true  and  high  sense  these  men  were 
not  uneducated.  Not  only  had  they  drunk 
deep  of  that  purest  fountain  of  truest  culture, 
the  Word  of  God  in  Holy  Scripture,  but  their 
minds  had  been  exercised  by  strong  thinking 
about  great  things.  From  their  standpoint 
the  coming  of  Messiah  was  an  event  which 
must  touch  every  social  and  political,  as  well  as 
every  religious,  question  of  the  stirring  age 
in  which  they  lived.  To  say  that  John  and 
Andrew  were  young  men  fired  by  a  Messianic 
enthusiasm  is  to  say  that  they  were  young  men 
fired  with  an  enthusiasm  which  necessarily 
aroused  and  quickened  all  their  intellectual  and 
spiritual  powers.  In  the  perfection  of  His 
nature  Jesus  was  indeed  infinitely  above  His 
disciples ;  yet  between  Him  and  them  there 
was  the   common  standing  ground  of  mutual 

[5] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

interests  and  true  sympathies  which  made 
fellowship  both  possible  and  real. 

Another  thing  we  must  keep  in  mind  if  we 
would  appreciate  this  story.  We  must  remem- 
ber that  it  is  reminiscence.  An  old  man  recalls 
the  most  precious  moments  of  his  youth. 

Like  a  deathless,  unfading  picture,  that  never- 
to-be-forgotten  day  lives  in  the  memory  of  the 
Beloved  Disciple,  who  is  now  the  aged  Apostle, 
—  that  day  when  in  the  first  flush  of  manhood 
he  stood  with  Jesus  beside  the  shore  of  Jordan. 
He  feels  again  the  hot  sunshine  and  the  warm 
desert  air  flowing  down  from  the  brown  hills. 
As  though  it  were  yesterday,  he  sees  the 
hitherto  unpeopled  valley  filled  with  crowds 
flocking  to  the  preaching  of  the  Desert  Prophet. 
Once  more  the  heart-clutch  of  that  moment 
comes  when  the  Baptist  with  whom  he  is  walk- 
ing stops,  stretches  out  his  sinewy,  naked 
arm,  points  to  the  young  Nazarene,  and  says  : 
"  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God  !  " 

The  leap  of  fulfilled  hope  thrills  his  breast ; 
and,  not  as  though  it  were  yesterday,  but  as 
though  it  were  rushing  afresh  upon  him  at  the 

[6] 


THE    BEGINNING  OF  THE   BROTHERHOOD 

moment,  he  feels  the  strange,  the  irresistible 
attraction  which  instantly  drew  him  and  An- 
drew away  from  the  old  Master  to  the  side 
of  the  New. 

He  sees  Jesus  turn  and  look  upon  him.  Oh 
that  face  !  Through  the  long  years  it  has  been 
to  him  more  real,  more  dear,  than  any  face  of 
man.  And  the  voice,  which  in  sudden  question 
shook  his  very  soul !  Yet  John  knows,  —  he 
*  vividly  remembers  how,  overleaping  even  awe 
or  reverence,  a  new-born  love  sprang  up  within 
him  casting  out  fear,  demanding  fellowship  as 
he  answered : 

"  Master,  where  dwellest  Thou  ?  "  "  Where 
dwellest  Thou  ?  for  we  cannot  leave  you  ;  we 
must  stay  by  you ;  we  are  going  home  with 
you. 

Even  yet  the  frank  and  manly  welcome  of 
the  response  lingers.  Jesus  says,  "  Come  and 
ye  shall  see  "  ;  and  the  comradeship  is  sealed. 
Together  the  three  young  men  thread  their 
way  through  crowded  groups  until  they  reach 
the  rude  booth  by  the  river  side ;  and  if  either 
John  or  Andrew  had  at  first  thought  of  a  brief, 

[7] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

respectful  visit  the  thought  is  quickly  lost  in 
the  discovery  that  they  have  found,  not  only 
a  Christ,  but  a  Friend. 

There  under  the  leafy  boughs,  while  turbid 
Jordan  rolls  at  their  feet,  they  abide  with  Jesus  ; 
the  moments  fly  unheeded  while  they  sit  to- 
gether in  sweet  communion  until  the  sun  goes 
down  and  evening  shadows  deepen. 

John  was  young  then,  scarce  twenty  years 
of  age.  Now  he  is  old.  He  has  become 
"  The  Venerable,"  and,  it  may  be,  the  very 
last  man  living  on  earth  who  has  seen  Jesus 
face  to  face.  But  that  day  by  the  river  side 
where  he  and  Andrew  abode  with  Jesus,  was 
the  bright  beginning  of  a  friendship  which  has 
never  ceased,  which  has  grown  deeper,  richer, 
more  real  as  the  years  have  gone  by. 

Perhaps  there  was  never  on  earth  a  com- 
munion so  perfect  as  that  of  the  Beloved  Dis- 
ciple with  his  Master ;  yet  it  differed  only  in 
degree  from  that  which  all  the  disciples  experi- 
enced. No  brotherhood  could  be  more  beau- 
tiful than  that  of  Jesus  and  the  Twelve ;  and 
never  had  any  brotherhood  such  significance. 

[8] 


THE   BEGINNING  OF  THE   BROTHERHOOD 

At  the  beginning,  before  a  single  mighty 
work,  before  the  first  utterance  of  the  teach- 
ing with  authority,  immediately  following  the 
proclamation  of  the  Lamb  of  God,  as  a  first 
result  of  the  proclamation  of  the  Christ  a 
communion  forms  itself:  it  flows  together  in- 
evitably, naturally,  as  though  it  were  in  itself 
a  manifestation  of  Christhood. 

The  mission  of  the  Christ  begins  with 
Communion. 

But  lest  any  might  imagine  this  an  accident, 
or  merely  a  prelude  to  affairs  more  important, 
we  behold  at  the  close  of  the  ministry  of  Jesus 
that  Last  Supper  whose  bread  and  wine  be- 
comes the  symbol  of  His  life  given  in  love  for 
His  friends ;  and  we  see  communion  raised 
into  the  place  of  the  highest,  holiest  sign  of  the 
Christian  faith,  —  the  sacrament  which  above  all 
else  represents  the  life  of  the  Church  of  Jesus  ! 
Surely  there  must  be  a  meaning  in  this  !  And 
there  is.  The  earthly  ministry  of  Jesus  began 
and  ended  in  communion,  because  the  com- 
munion of  brotherhood  enfolds  the  very  core 
of  His  gospel. 

[9] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Communion  is  the  sharing  by  kindred 
natures  of  what  belongs  to  each  of  them  in 
common. 

And  the  great  word  of  the  gospel  of  Jesus 
is,  Father  I  "  Your  Father  which  is  in 
heaven." 

The  Fatherhood  of  God  was,  to  Jesus,  no 
abstract  proposition,  nor  any  legal  fiction,  nor 
any  hazy  religious  sentiment.  In  the  sight  of 
Jesus  the  bond  of  nature  between  man  and  God 
was  a  living  fact.  The  confession  of  this  bond 
by  men,  with  the  communion  of  spirit  and  the 
fellowship  of  life  implied  in  it,  was  the  need 
of  needs  involving  the  issue  of  life  or  death, 
salvation  or  perdition. 

For,  Jesus  beheld  men,  like  the  younger  son 
in  His  great  parable,  repudiating  their  Father  in 
their  lives ;  or  like  the  elder  son  repudiating 
their  Father  in  their  hearts.  Therefore  His 
gospel  is  a  call  to  repentance,  commanding  men 
to  turn  from  the  sin  that  is  both  crime  against 
the  Father  and  death  to  their  own  souls,  since  it 
breaks  the  bond  which  unites  them  to  their 
true  and  only  life. 

[10] 


THE   BEGINNING  OF  THE   BROTHERHOOD 

But  the  gospel  of  Jesus  speaks  not  in  His 
words  alone.  Above  any  uttered  word  it 
speaks  in  the  very  Person  of  Him  who  is  at 
once  God's  Well  Beloved  Son  and  our  Brother. 
The  communion  of  brotherhood  in  which 
Jesus  lived  with  His  disciples  was  the  expres- 
sion of  His  nature  in  His  daily  life. 

Moreover,  it  is  a  concrete  witness  to  the 
truth  of  the  kinship  between  the  human  and  the 
divine.  The  loving  fellowship  between  Jesus 
and  His  disciples  leads  straight  from  Himself 
up  to  the  Father.  It  becomes  an  object  lesson 
given  by  our  great  Brother  to  His  little  broth- 
ers, teaching  the  first  principles  of  the  life  of 
the  Family  to  which  we  belong. 

But  words  when  applied  to  such  great  sim- 
plicities as  the  living  gospel  of  Jesus  are  poor 
and  often  misleading.  To  name  the  fellowship 
of  Jesus  with  His  disciples  "  an  object  lesson  " 
or  "an  example"  is  to  risk  suspicion  of  un- 
reality, because  the  notion  of  example  too  easily 
runs  into  the  notion  of  some  decorous,  unnat- 
ural stiffness  of  conscious  effort.  And  the  risk 
is  greater  because  the  idea  of  conscious  effort 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

for  effect  readily  falls  in  with  the  religiously- 
conventional  idea  of  a  "  proper "  Christ  con- 
descending to  those  with  whom  He  can  have 
nothing  naturally   in  common. 

We  must  cleanse  our  minds  of  all  such  fool- 
ishness and  falseness  if  we  would  understand 
Him. 

Jesus  was  too  great  and  too  greatly  human 
to  allow  any  compromise  of  His  humanity  by 
His  official  dignities. 

It  may  help  us  if  we  return  and  look  once 
more  upon  the  picture  of  the  first  communion 
of  the  disciples  with  their  Master,  remembering 
that  the  picture  is  a  reminiscence. 

Sixty  or  more  epoch-making  years  have 
passed  away.  The  earlier  simplicities  have 
become  somewhat  clouded  by  the  growing 
greatness  of  the  official  Christ.  Already  men 
are  debating  the  mysteries  of  His  Person. 
John  himself  in  his  old  age  has  become  a 
Personage,  last  and  chiefest  of  apostles. 

If,  then,  the  reminiscence  is  not  colored  by 
the  years  through  which  it  is  projected,  nor  by 
John's  environment;  if  the  enlarged  impres- 

[    12] 


THE   BEGINNING  OF  THE   BROTHERHOOD 

sion  of  the  dignity  of  the  Christ  does  not 
shadow  his  picture  of  Jesus ;  if  we  can  detect 
neither  any  note  of  wonder  at  the  condescen- 
sion of  the  Christ  nor  any  shade  of  gratulation 
over  the  honor  conferred  on  Himself,  —  then 
there  must  be  a  mighty  reason  for  it.  Upon 
the  memory  of  those  hours  by  the  river  side, 
the  indehble  stamp  of  genuineness  is  too  deep 
to  permit  even  suggestion  of  a  communion 
filtered  through  the  medium  of  a  gracious 
condescension. 

The  picture  in  the  mind  of  John  is  the  pic- 
ture of  a  comradeship,  and  it  glows  with  the 
genuineness  of  life.  Through  it  all  we  feel  the 
warm  radiance  of  a  true,  honest,  manly  com- 
panionship, friendship,  fellowship.  Is  the 
Christ  lost  sight  of?  The  official  Christ,  per- 
haps. But  the  real  Christ  dominates  the  pic- 
ture, and  the  very  crown  of  His  Christhood  is 
Brotherhood. 

If  we  could  but  clear  our  vision  of  cobwebs 
we  should  see  that  Jesus  did  not  have  to  stoop 
to  fellowship  with  His  disciples.  The  instinct 
of  brotherhood  was  an   integral   part  of  His 

[13] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Christhood ;  the  sense  of  kinship  between 
their  souls  and  His  was  sweet  to  Him.  He 
craved  their  companionship  with  a  craving 
deeper  than  they  could  know,  because  His  was 
a  perfect  human  nature.  He  did  not  stoop  to 
them,  He  lifted  them  up  to  His  own  heart. 

It  was  not  always  easy  ;  they  often  failed  to 
understand.  Like  later  disciples  in  after  ages, 
their  littleness  cheapened  the  bond.  Things 
which  might  come  out  of  the  fellowship  — 
things  for  themselves  —  blurred  its  precious- 
ness.  Peter  presumed  upon  the  personal  im- 
portance which  it  seemed  to  give  him.  Even 
John,  the  Beloved,  wove  out  of  his  intimacy 
with  the  Christ  the  glittering  fabric  of  a  dar- 
ingly ambitious  dream.  All  the  disciples  were 
touched  with  a  consciousness  of  the  probable 
advantage  of  their  association  with  the  coming 
Christ.  And  like  others  who  have  come 
after  them,  they  had  their  doubts,  their  fears, 
their  stupidities. 

How  beautiful  the  patience  of  Jesus  with 
the  faulty  fellowship  of  His  brethren  !  But 
its  real  beauty  is  its  strength.      It  is  the  pa- 

[14] 


THE   BEGINNING  OF  THE   BROTHERHOOD 

tience  of  a  conquering  love  constantly,  surely- 
lifting  them  into  likeness  with  Himself.  We 
begin  to  see  the  power  of  it  while  He  was  with 
them  in  the  growth  of  that  personal  affection 
for  their  Master  which  more  than  once  saved 
their  faith  from  shipwreck  ;  but  its  full  power 
was  only  felt  afterward,  when  their  Lord  had 
been  taken  from  them.  Then  they  began  to  un- 
derstand. Then,  Spirit  taught,  they  discovered 
that  the  real  blessing  of  His  Christhood  had 
been  hidden  in  their  companionship  with  His 
very  Self,  and  now  it  was  revealing  itself  in  a 
communion  with  the  Father,  into  which  the 
heart  of  their  Brother  had  raised  them. 

And  then  they  began  to  comprehend  that 
His  fellowship  with  them  was  but  the  seed 
from  which  a  mighty  harvest  should  ripen, 
even  the  brotherhood  which  no  man  can 
number,  out  of  all  nations  and  kindreds  and 
tongues,  confessing  the  communion  with  the 
Father  into  which  Christ  has  raised  them, 
proclaiming  in  hymn  of  mighty  unison,  "  Sal- 
vation unto  our  God  which  sitteth  upon  the 
throne  and  unto  the  Lamb  ! " 

[15] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

But  this  brings  us  face  to  face  with  Christ 
upon  the  Cross.  There  we  see  Brotherhood 
rising  to  its  highest  height,  reaching  to  its 
deepest  depth.  We  behold  the  Christ  who 
craved  fellowship  with  men  in  life  claiming 
fellowship  with  men  in  their  common  lot  of 
death,  yea,  even  in  their  doom  of  the  death 
which  came  by  sin. 

And  as  we  gaze  upon  Him,  numbered  for 
our  sake  with  the  transgressors,  perhaps  we 
wonder  how  the  Holy  Christ  could  condescend 
to  such  a  death  for  the  sake  of  such  sinners 
as  ourselves. 

But  if  we  understand,  this  passing  wonder 
will  be  quickly  lost  in  the  more  real  vision  of 
a  Christ  whose  conquering  love  makes  Him 
great  enough  to  be  the  Brother  of  men  in  their 
extremest  need,  even  to  the  bearing  in  His 
own  body  of  the  awful  load  of  human  grief 
and  human  guilt. 

Such  a  Christ  is  too  mighty  for  Death  to 
hold.  The  powers  of  Life  Eternal  are  in 
Him.  And  as  He  rises  above  vanquished 
death.  His  conquering  love  becomes  more  and 

[i6] 


THE   BEGINNING  OF  THE   BROTHERHOOD 

more  resplendent.  He  raises  up  with  Himself 
those  for  whom  He  gave  Himself  in  sacrifice, 
and  makes  them  sit  together  with  Him  in  the 
heavenly  places  of  fellowship  with  God. 

In  those  hours  at  the  Last  Supper,  whose 
shadows  were  shot  through  with  the  glow  of 
communion,  the  disciples  told  Jesus  their  per- 
plexities, and,  as  friends  in  dear  fellowship  with 
their  great  Friend,  they  asked  questions. 

Philip,  faintly  understanding  what  Jesus  had 
just  said,  exclaimed: 

"  Lord,  show  us  the  Father  and  it  sufficeth 
us  !  "  and  Jesus  answered  : 

"  Have  I  been  so  long  time  with  you,  and 
yet  hast  thou  not  known  me,  Philip  ?  He 
that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the  Father." 

Yes !  He  who  sees  Jesus  as  Philip  saw 
Him,  not  with  casual  curious  glance,  nor  with 
detached  critical  inspection,  but  in  fellowship 
by  day  and  by  night,  he  hath  seen  the  Father. 

"Have  I  been  so  long  time  with  you, 
Philip  ?  "  Jesus  counts  the  days  from  the  day- 
following  the  one  by  the  river  side,  when 
Andrew  found   Philip   and   brought    Him   to 

[  17  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Jesus,  down  to  the  present  precious  moment. 
He  knows  that  Philip  too  is  counting  them, 
and  that  Philip's  heart  is  wrung  by  the  thought 
of  parting  with  his  Lord,  who  through  all  the 
long  time  has  been  also  his  comrade  and  closest 
Friend.  Jesus  appeals  to  the  tried  intimacy 
between  them. 

Reading  between  the  lines  we  hear  Jesus 
saying  to  His  disciple,  "  The  fellowship  which 
so  long  time  you  and  I  have  lived  in  is  not 
only  like,  but  it  is  itself  the  very  fellowship  of 
the  Father  come  down  to  you  in  me,  your 
Brother  and   His   Son." 

We  see  the  Father  when  we  come  into 
communion  with  Jesus. 

Too  often  the  love  of  God  is  represented  as 
though  it  were  some  pale  reflection  of  a  far-off 
benevolence,  or  perhaps  as  though  it  were 
the  easv  good  nature  of  a  carelesslv  indulgent 
governor  of  the  Universe.  But  the  love  of 
God  is  the  love  of  a  Father. 

Now,  a  Father's  love  demands  response  ;  it 
asks  for  confession  of  kinship,  and  for  fellow- 
ship of  life  on  the  part  of  the  Father's  children. 

[i8] 


THE   BEGINNING  OF  THE   BROTHERHOOD 

A  Father's  love  reaches  after  reality  in  com- 
munion. His  own  heart  can  be  satisfied  with 
nothing  less,  His  wisdom  knows  that  this 
alone  is  life  for  His  children. 

The  presence  of  His  Christ  in  the  flesh,  in 
the  midst  of  humanity,  is  God's  declaration  of 
Himself  to  men.  It  also  reveals  us  to  our- 
selves, for  our  Brother  Jesus  is  God's  Son! 

The  reality  of  the  fellowship  of  Jesus  with 
His  disciples  and  His  friends,  the  genuineness 
of  His  comradeship,  His  craving  of  their  com- 
pany. His  deep  joy  in  every  response  of  their 
love  to  His  brotherly  heart,  is,  all  of  it,  the 
call  of  the  Father  for  communion  with  His 
children.  And  for  us  the  way  of  response 
must  be  found  in  tracing  the  path  of  commun- 
ion made  for  us  by  the  footsteps  of  Jesus. 
The  things  He  cared  for,  the  things  He  did. 
His  thoughts,  His  ways  are  the  ways  of  the 
Family  to  which  we  belong. 

When  we  follow  Jesus  in  the  sincerity  of 
an  honest  fellowship,  then  we  answer  the  call 
of  our  Father's  heart. 

[19] 


THE    REALITY   IN    GOD   AND    IN    MAN 


God  is  a  Spirit :  and  they  that  worship  Him  must 
worship  Him  in  spirit  and  in  truth. — ^John  iv.  24. 


THE  REALITY  IN  GOD  AND   IN  MAN 

W^HETHER  we  regard  this  word  of  Jesus  as 
theology  or  philosophy,  or  as  simple  religion, 
it  is  most  profound.  It  goes  to  the  very 
foundation  of  the  nature  of  God  ;  it  reflects 
a  wonderful  light  upon  the  nature  of  man 
and  upon  the  relation  which  exists  between 
man  and  God. 

But  scarcely  less  remarkable  than  the  word 
itself  is  the  way  in  which  it  was  spoken. 

Such  a  declaration  as  this  would  seem  suit- 
able for  the  consideration  of  a  company  of 
learned  rabbis  or  the  attention  of  some  circle 
of  eminent  philosophers. 

To  no  such  assembly  of  trained  and  cultured 
minds  does  Jesus  speak.  His  only  audience 
was  one  poor  woman,  —  the  woman  of  Samaria. 
Look  at  her  as  she  listens  to  this  greatest  of  the 
great  words  of  Jesus  !  She  is  ignorant.  She 
could  scarcely  read  the  simplest  sentence  in  the 
Bible,  or  write  her  own  name.     She  is  coarse 

[23] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

and  common ;  her  thoughts  run  in  a  narrow 
circle  bounded  by  her  life  of  rude,  daily  labor 
and  the  crude  notions  of  the  petty  village  com- 
munity of  which  she  forms  an  insignificant  and 
not  very  desirable  part.  Except  for  a  certain 
shrewd,  half  animal  quick-wittedness  she  is  re- 
pulsive rather  than  interesting,  and  she  bears 
the  mark  of  loose  and  immoral  living. 

According  to  the  received  ideas  of  the  fitness 
of  things,  nothing  could  be  more  unsuitable 
than  the  conduct  of  Jesus  in  addressing  such 
profound  doctrine  to  such  a  person  as  the 
woman  of  Samaria.  A  few  plain  lessons  in 
decency  and  honesty  would  certainly  seem  to 
include  the  limit  of  her  capacity  ;  and  to  talk 
to  such  a  listener  about  "  the  water  of  life  '*  or 
the  spirituality  of  God  surely  appears  the  height 
of  absurdity. 

Was  it  a  blunder?  Did  Jesus  waste  His 
words  upon  the  woman  of  Samaria  ?  Did  He 
send  this  poor  sinner  away  mystified,  unfed, 
or,  worse  still,  puffed  up  with  vain  conceit 
of  useless  and  uncomprehended  knowledge? 

Now,  let  us  not  forget  that  Jesus  was  the 

[24] 


THE    REALITY    IN    GOD    AND    IN    MAN 

wisest  and  the  most  wisely  practical  teacher 
who  ever  lived.  Let  us  remember  that  He, 
more  thoroughly  than  any  other  who  ever 
taught  on  earth,  knew  what  is  in  man  ;  and  if 
He  spoke  the  deepest  truth,  —  truth  which 
commands  the  admiration  of  the  ages  to  an  ig- 
norant and  degraded  peasant  woman  instead  of 
to  a  college  of  sages,  —  then  there  is  a  meaning 
as  strong  as  the  word  itself  in  the  manner  of 
its  utterance.  There  are  lessons  for  us  in  the 
fact  that  to  the  woman  of  Samaria  Jesus  said  : 

"God  is  Spirit :  and  they  that  worship  Him 
must  worship  in  spirit  and  in  truth." 

Perhaps  the  first  lesson  is  the  oneness  of 
humanity  in  its  nature  and  its  need. 

The  meeting  of  Jesus  with  the  woman  of 
Samaria  seems  like  the  outcome  of  the  merest 
chance. 

Wearied  with  his  journey,  Jesus  sits  down  by 
the  well  while  His  disciples  go  on  to  the  village 
to  buy  food  for  evening  repast. 

The  woman,  during  her  noonday  rest  from 
her  work,  it  may  be  as  a  common  laborer  in 
the  field,  comes  to  the  well  to  draw  water. 

[25] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

But  glance  beyond  the  conversation  that 
followed,  read  what  Jesus  said  after  the  dis- 
ciples had  returned  and  the  woman  had  de- 
parted, and  you  will  see  that  for  Him  this 
meeting  was  no  chance.  It  was  an  appoint- 
ment to  do  His  Father's  will ;  it  was  a  work  to 
be  finished,  not  for  the  sake  of  the  woman  only, 
but  for  the  sake  of  humanity. 

This  revelation  of  the  mind  of  Jesus  is  need- 
ful for  the  interpretation  of  His  talk  with  the 
woman. 

He  has  never  seen  her  before,  He  may  never 
see  her  again,  He  has  but  a  few  moments  in 
which  to  finish  this  work  given  for  His  doing. 
We  must  admire  the  patience  of  Jesus  and  the 
faultless  tact  with  which  He  leads  the  woman  on 
and  draws  her  out.  The  narrative  yields  no 
sense  of  hurry  or  of  slurring,  but  it  does  carry 
an  impression  of  solemn  urgency.  No  time  is 
wasted  upon  little  things  or  side  issues.  Care- 
fully, calmly,  step  by  step  yet  with  swift  de- 
cision Jesus  reaches  toward  that  which  is 
deepest  and  most  real  in  this  woman's  life  and 
nature. 

[26] 


THE    REALITY    IN    GOD    AND    IN    MAN 

It  is  remarkable  how  in  this  short  conver- 
sation the  needs,  the  impulses,  and  the  instincts 
of  common  human  life  make  their  appearance 
only  to  be  passed  by.  The  woman  prays  for 
deliverance  from  thirst  and  the  drudgery  of 
daily  toil.  But  even  while  she  prays  the  sug- 
gestion of  Jesus  is  beginning  to  make  her  bodily 
and  earthly  needs  merge  and  lose  themselves 
in  the  sense  of  a  higher  need. 

The  question  of  social  relations  and  of  com- 
mon morality  comes  up,  and  is  used  by  Jesus 
only  as  a  goad  for  conscience,  and  in  a  way 
which  shows  that  He  does  not  regard  morality 
as  the  final  thing.  And  the  subject  of  religion 
—  the  subject  which  to  a  multitude  of  men  has 
always  been  considered  chief  of  all  —  is  intro- 
duced and  dealt  with  as  a  matter  of  minor  im- 
portance and  made  a  mere  stepping-stone  to 
something  more  real.  Jesus  cared  for  all  these 
things.  He  cared  for  wholesome  conditions 
for  the  laborer,  and  for  morality,  and  for  re- 
ligion. But  His  work  now  at  this  moment  is 
the  saving  of  a  human  soul.  He  cannot  stop 
at  anything  short  of  that  which  is  final.     His 

[27] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

appeal  must  be  made  to  that  which  lies  at  the 
foundation  of  the  nature  of  this  human  being, 
it  must  reach  her  actual  inmost  self.  The 
moment  which  Jesus  chooses,  the  word  which 
He  takes  hold  of,  is  significant. 

The  woman  in  her  ignorant  manner  has  been 
speaking  of  the  difference  between  Jews  and 
Samaritans  in  their  fashions  of  worship.  Jesus 
seizes  the  idea  of  relationship  between  God  and 
man  implied  in  worship.  He  says  to  the 
woman  : 

"  God  is  Spirit :  and  they  that  worship  Him 
must  worship  in  spirit  and  in  truth." 

Remember,  now,  this  is  not  abstract  doctrine, 
it  is  part  of  the  talk  of  Jesus  with  the  woman 
of  Samaria.  It  can  mean  but  one  thing ;  it 
says  to  her  : 

"  God  is  Spirit.  And  you  —  since  you  can 
worship  Him — you  also  are  spirit  I '^ 

Coarse,  common,  sinful,  far  from  spiritual 
though  she  may  be  in  appearance  or  in  disposi- 
tion, yet  it  is  true  that  even  the  woman  of  Sama- 
ria mav  come  face  to  face  with  God  who  is  Spirit, 
because  her  actual  inmost  self  is  spirit  too. 

[28] 


THE    REALITY    IN    GOD    AND    IN    MAN 

The  manner  of  this  word  of  Jesus,  the  sort 
of  person  to  whom  it  is  spoken,  gives  to  his 
saying  a  world-wide,  all-embracing  sweep. 

If  the  other  person  in  this  conversation  had 
been  Nicodemus,  or  Mary  of  Bethany,  or  the 
Apostle  John,  then  the  quiet  but  decisive  as- 
sumption of  Jesus  that  there  is  in  his  listener 
a  spirit  able  to  come  into  the  communion  of 
worship  with  God  who  is  Spirit  might  appear 
less  astonishing.  We  might  say,  and  we  would 
say  : 

The  spiritual  nature  in  Nicodemus  has  been 
developed  by  his  training ;  Mary  and  John 
belong  to  that  choice  company  of  exceptional 
natures  who  are  born  spirituals. 

But  the  Woman  of  Samaria !  how  can  such 
a  thing  be  true  of  her  ? 

Now  blessed  be  His  Holy  Name !  the  Lord 
did  speak  His  great  word,  with  all  its  implica- 
tions, to  the  Woman  of  Samaria  !  And  thereby 
He  says  to  us  : 

"  Not  selected  specimens,  not  a  few  chosen 
ones  out  of  the  mass,  but  every  human  being, 
yea,  even  the  lowliest,  even  such  as  this  woman 

[29] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

possesses  a  spirit ;  and  in  every  one  alike  the 
spirit  is  the  real  self.'* 

Do  you  ask,  then,  What  is  spirit  ? 

That  is  one  of  those  questions  to  which 
no  answer  in  words  is  possible.  We  are  fear- 
fully and  wonderfully  made  even  as  to  our 
mortal  bodies.  Still  more  marvellous,  still 
more  full  of  mystery  is  the  life  which  animates 
our  bodies.  But  the  animal  life  is  not  spirit. 
If  the  anatomist  cannot  lay  bare  the  secret  of 
life,  if  the  biologist  cannot  find  or  define  or 
analyze  life,  much  less  can  any  human  science 
grasp  the  mystery  of  spirit.  The  spirit  is  not 
simple  brain-power ;  it  is  more  than  intellect. 
It  is  not  thought,  or  feeling,  or  love,  or  liking ; 
though  it  lives  and  moves  through  all  these 
and  uses  body,  life,  mind,  affections,  and  colors 
them  all  as  the  sunligrht  colors  the  stones  and 
plants  upon  which  it  falls ;  but  deeper,  more 
real  than  all  it  uses  or  stamps  with  its  mysteri- 
ous imprint,  when  all  else  that  goes  to  the 
making  of  a  man  has  perished,  spirit  lives  on 
deathless.  Spirit  is  like  the  wind  that  bloweth 
where    it    listeth  and  thou    hearest  the  sound 

[30] 


THE    REALITY    IN    GOD    AND    IN    MAN 

thereof,  but  canst  not  tell  whence  it  cometh  or 
whither  it  goeth.  And  yet  without  argument, 
above  all  argument  we  know  Jesus  is  right.  We 
are  conscious,  we  know  that  within  us,  deeper 
than  our  very  life  there  is  something  —  and  that 
something  our  real  self — which  reaches  toward 
and  responds  to  the  call  of  God  who  is  Spirit. 

But  no  sooner  do  we  try  to  explain  or  define 
this  something  than  we  become  confused.  We 
fall  back  upon  what  has  been  taught  us  — 
perhaps  when  we  were  children. 

We  say,  "  Yes,  I  suppose  I  have  a  soul,  — 
or  spirit,  if  you  choose  to  call  it  so,  — and  it  is 
the  most  important  part  of  me,  because  it  must 
live  after  the  death  of  the  body." 

It  is  remarkable  how  commonly  the  first, 
and  often  the  last  and  only  idea  of  spirit  is  the 
thought  of  its  immortality.  To  describe  spirit 
as  "  the  immortal  part  of  us  "  seems  a  sufficient 
definition. 

And  well  for  us  it  surely  must  be  if  this 
truth  of  the  immortality  of  our  spirit  takes  hold 
of  us,  for  one  of  the  most  awful  attributes  of 
spirit  is  its  power  of  deathless  life. 

[31] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Yet  in  this  very  truth,  or  rather  in  our 
treatment  of  this  truth,  there  is  a  danger.  Too 
easily  we  dismiss  all  thought  of  the  spirit's 
activity  from  this  present  life  and  transfer  it  to 
a  life  beyond.  We  let  the  life  of  flesh  and 
blood  and  the  things  that  are  seen  fill  all  our 
horizon  here,  and  try  to  satisfy  our  higher  self 
with  a  hazy  hope  that  hereafter,  in  some  in- 
definite future,  spirit  may  perhaps  have  its 
turn. 

The  ancients  used  to  illustrate  immortality 
by  the  cycle  of  the  worm,  the  chrysalis,  and  the 
butterfly.  Man  in  his  present  state,  they  said, 
is  the  worm.  Death  is  only  seeming.  The 
worm  spins  a  chrysalis  out  of  its  body  when 
winter  approaches  ;  it  is  not  dead,  but  sleepeth. 
And  when  summer  comes  again,  out  of  the 
chrysalis  bursts  a  glorious  butterfly.  The 
butterfly  was  their  emblem  of  the  soul,  the 
spirit. 

The  parable  is  beautiful,  and  there  is  noble 
truth  in  it ;  yet,  after  all,  only  a  half-truth.  It 
will  not  do  to  imagine  in  ourselves  only  bodies, 
only  worms  now.      For  now^  as  truly  as  here- 

[32] 


THE    REALITY    IN    GOD    AND    IN    MAN 

after ;  yea,  now  for  the  sake  of  the  hereafter 
Spirit  is  in  us  the  real  things  the  true  self  I 

In  the  saying  of  Jesus  there  is,  in  the  origi- 
nal, no  definite  article.  He  did  not  say,  "God 
is  a  Spirit."     He  said,  "  God  is  Spirit." 

That  is  a  wonderful  definition  of  God !  It 
lifts  our  thought  of  God  far  above  and  beyond 
all  accidents  of  time  and  space,  and  all  limita- 
tions of  bodily  form. 

But  let  us  not  forget  that  there  is  more  than 
a  grand  idea  in  this  great  word  of  Jesus ;  let 
us  remember  how  it  was  spoken  to  the  Woman 
of  Samaria,  and  therefore  to  the  spirit  in  each 
one  of  us,  opening  for  us  all  the  door  of 
communion  with  our  Father  through  worship, 
saying  to  us, 

"  God  is  Spirit ;  and  they  that  worship  Him 
must  worship  in  spirit  and  in  truth." 

The  record  of  the  religions  of  the  world  is 
mostly  a  sad  story  of  attempts  to  realize  and 
worship  God  as  something  else  than  Spirit. 
There  is  a  terrible  twist  in  human  nature 
warping  men  toward  worship  of  the  Creature 
rather  than  the  Creator.  But  the  Second 
3  [  33  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Commandment,  which  says,  "  Thou  shalt  not 
make  unto  thee  any  graven  Image  or  any  like- 
ness of  anv  thino;  that  is  in  heaven  above  or  in 
the  earth  beneath,"  has  not  lost  its  meaning 
with  the  decay  of  the  ancient  heathenism. 

To-day,  when  our  new  knowledge  has 
brought  such  new  and  overpowering  awe  of 
Nature,  and  with  bated  breath  we  speak  of 
the  Unknown  Force  dwelling  in  the  universe, 
are  we  not  in  danger  of  putting  Nature  in  the 
place  of  Nature's  spiritual   God  ? 

Now,  the  harm  of  it  is  not  only  the  dis- 
honoring of  God  :  it  is  also  the  deep  hurt  to 
ourselves.  It  logically  becomes  denial  that  we 
are  spirit,  and  separates  us  from  our  Father. 
Or  if  some  shadowy  communion  with  the 
mysterious  Power  in  Nature  may  be  had,  this 
can  appear  possible  only  to  the  specially  gifted 
or  the  supremely  cultured.  Every  religion 
and  every  philosophy  which  regards  God  as 
an  outside  Being  or  Force  dwelling  in  a  dis- 
tant heaven  or  identifies  God  with  Nature 
tends  toward  spiritual  aristocracy.  Only  when 
we    know    that    God    is    Spirit,   and    that    we 

[34] 


THE    REALITY    IN    GOD    AND    IN    MAN 

too  are  spirit,  does  His  Fatherhood  and  our 
brotherhood  with  each  other  come  into  clear 
view. 

We  may  differ  in  earthly  circumstances  and 
in  mental  endowments,  but  down  deeper  than 
all  else  is  the  real  self,  the  essence  of  hu- 
manity, the  spirit  which  is  common  to  each  of 
us.  And  that  was  made  to,  and  can  come 
into  communion  with  the  Spirit  who  is  Father 
of  our  spirits. 

Augustine  says,  "  We  had  gone  out  of  doors 
and  we  are  sent  inward.  God  is  near.  To 
whom  ?  To  the  high  ?  Nay,  to  them  that 
are  contrite  of  heart.  Dost  thou  seek  some 
mountain  to  lift  thee  up  to  Him  ?  Come 
down  that  thou  mayst  come  near  Him.  But 
wouldst  thou  ascend?  Then  ascend;  but 
seek  not  a  mountain,  the  ascents  are  in  His 
heart.  Make  thyself  a  temple  of  God  within 
thee." 

"  God  is  Spirit :  and  they  that  worship  Him 
must  worship  in  spirit  and  in  truth." 

Why  was  the  last  word  added  ?  Why  does 
Jesus  say  we  must  worship  in  truth  as  well  as 

[35] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

in  spirit  ?  A  moment's  reflection  will  show 
that  it  must  mean  more  than  just  honest 
intention.  We  may  understand  if  we  catch 
the  keynote  of  this  word  of  Jesus.  The  key- 
note is  reality,  God  is  Spirit.  That  is  His 
real  essence.  We  are  spirits  :  spirit  is  our 
essence,  our  real  self.  We  worship  in  truth 
when  we  face  the  realities  and  accept  the  facts. 

A  communion  between  God  and  men  is 
here  declared  which  cannot  be  conjured  up  by 
outward  forms  or  appealing  ritual.  Nor  can 
this  worship  in  spirit  and  in  truth  be  realized 
through  any  mystical  state  of  mind  or  wrought- 
up  feeling.  It  is  the  simple  acceptance  of 
the  actual  relationship  of  your  spirit  to  your 
Father  who  is  Spirit. 

This  communion  with  God  is  not  tied  to 
time  or  place  or  circumstances,  nor  to  moods 
or  feelings.  Such  worship,  such  humble,  lov- 
ing, reverent  fellowship  of  your  spirit  with 
your  God  may  be  calm  as  a  summer  evening, 
or  it  mav  fill  your  soul  with  strength  amid 
life's  stormiest  days.  It  goes  on  always.  It 
may  be  with  us  even  in  the  midst  of  business 

[36] 


THE    REALITY    IN    GOD    AND    IN    MAN 

cares.  There  is  no  truer  worship  than  that 
which  ascends  out  of  the  turmoil  of  the  most 
common  and  sordid  distractions,  claiming  the 
fellowship  of  your  Father's  Spirit  with  your 
spirit  and  His  mighty  help  when  the  world 
would  claim  you  for  all  its  own. 

This  divine,  this  spiritual  communion  in 
worship  goes  on,  if  we  have  accepted  it  in 
truth,  even  when  we  are  scarcely  conscious  of 
it.  Instinctively  the  spirit  of  one  who  has 
learned  what  it  means  to  worship  in  spirit  and 
in  truth  glances  upward  out  of  the  mists  of 
sorrows,  or  the  distractions  of  joys,  or  the 
clamor  of  duties  and  feels  that  the  Father 
of  our  spirit  is  near. 

Perhaps  the  idea  of  such  fellowship  with  the 
mighty  and  mysterious  Spirit  of  God  may 
seem  extravagant.  And  not  only  would  the 
idea  be  extravagant,  but  the  actuality  impossible 
but  for  one  significant  fact. 

Jesus  told  the  Woman  of  Samaria  that 
".  .  .  true  worshippers  shall  worship  the 
Father  in  Spirit  and  in  truth,  for  the  Father 
seeketh  such  to  worship  Him." 

[37] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

God  does  not  wait  for  us  to  find  Him ;  God 
does  the  seeking.  The  mighty  Spirit  whom 
we  approach  is  the  Spirit  of  our  Father,  who 
meets  us  more  than  half  way.  We  hear,  in 
the  words  of  Jesus,  the  call  of  His  Spirit  to  our 
spirit.  For  us,  the  blessedness  of  worship  in 
spirit  only  waits  on  willingness  to  worship  in 
truth,  to  face  the  facts,  to  acknowledge  the  re- 
lationship between  our  spirit  and  God  who  is 
Spirit,  to  confess  that  between  us  is  the  bond 
of  Father  and  child. 


[38] 


COMMUNION   WITH    CHRIST   IN   THE 
COMMONPLACE 


Is  not  this  the  Carpenter,  the  Son  of  Mary,  the 
brother  of  James  and  Joses  and  of  Juda  and  Simon? 
and  are  not  his  sisters  here  with  us  ?  And  they 
were  offended  at  Him.  —  Mark  vi.  3. 


COMMUNION   WITH    CHRIST    IN   THE 
COMMONPLACE 

What  a  touch  of  human  nature !  Here  is 
something  the  like  of  which  is  happening 
every  day  and  has  always  happened  since  the 
world  began. 

Envy,  jealousy,  mean  and  petty  spite,  block- 
ing the  way  of  goodness  and  truth  and  wound- 
ing noble  souls  to  the  quick  ! 

And  yet  these  things  are  so  common,  they 
are  so  unavoidable  a  part  of  every-day  life  al- 
ways and  everywhere,  that  to  complain  of 
them  seems  foolish   and  unmanly. 

Nothing  could  be  more  realistic  than  the 
gospel  treatment  of  the  Nazareth  incident. 

Not  only  does  the  scene  in  the  synagogue 
live  before  our  eyes,  but  the  very  minds  of 
the  Nazarenes  are  laid  bare ;  and  we  feel,  as 
no  homily  could  make  us  feel,  the  deadly, 
self-inflicted  hurt  of  the  unbelief  born  of  their 

[41] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

blind  jealousy,  the  paralysis  of  spiritual  sense 
produced  by  their  unrealized  sin  ! 

But  we  also  see  something  else.  We  have 
in  this  Nazareth  scene  a  singular  picture  of 
the  daily  cross  which  Jesus  carried.  The  cur- 
tain which  covers  His  private  and  personal 
life  is  lifted,  and  we  behold  Him  tempted  like 
as  we  are,  not  alone  with  great  occasional 
temptation,  but  with  the  sting  of  those  small 
yet  exasperating  and  most  wearing  trials  which 
meet  us  in  the  ordinary  course  of  our  lives. 

The  Nazareth  narrative,  moreover,  helps  to 
show  us  what  sort  of  person  this  Christ  of 
ours  really  is. 

One  of  the  familiar  facts  of  the  life  of  Jesus 
is  that  He  was  a  man  of  the  people, —  the 
"Galilean  peasant"  He  is  sometimes  called; 
and  building  upon  that  picturesque  descrip- 
tion it  is  possible  to  construct  a  sort  of  fairy 
story  and  call  it  "  His  Beautiful  Life."  Such 
a  picturing  of  the  life  of  Jesus  fits  well  enough 
into  the  idea  of  a  Christ  who  is  only  a  Senti- 
ment, a  far-off  example  shorn  of  power  to 
save.     It  may  also  be  made  to  fit  the  idea  of 

[42] 


COMMUNION    IN    THE    COMMONPLACE 

a  Christ  who  is  nothing  but  a  Religious  Being 
shedding  forth  a  misty  halo  of  condescensions 
upon  men. 

The  real  Christ  is  different.  His  humanity- 
is  genuine.  He  takes  His  place  without  re- 
serve as  a  man  in  the  midst  of  His  fellow-men. 
He  is  hedged  about  by  no  special  privileges 
protecting  him  from  the  common  lot ;  nor  is 
He  any  mystic  dreamer  withdrawing  Himself 
from  rude  contact  with  common  people  and 
their  vulgar,  sordid  faults  and  sins.  "  Is  not 
this  the  Carpenter,  the  Son  of  Mary,  the 
brother  of  James  and  Joses,  and  of  Juda  and 
Simon  ?  And  are  not  his  sisters  here  with 
us  r 

From  whence  hath  this  man  these  things, 
—  this  wisdom,  these  mighty  works?  The 
Carpenter  forsooth  !  The  man  whom  we  have 
seen  every  day  in  his  shop  making  our  ploughs 
and  ox-yokes, —  He  to  set  himself  up  for 
an  inspired  teacher !  And  then  the  envy- 
poisoned  tongues  of  spiteful  gossip  are  let 
loose  and  vent  themselves  upon  His  brothers, 
His  sisters,  even  upon  His  holy  Mother ! 

[43] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Yes,  Jesus  the  Christ,  whose  name  has  been 
reverenced  by  the  ages,  when  He  comes  to 
Nazareth  where  He  had  been  brought  up 
finds  Himself  only  the  Carpenter,  and  the  vul- 
gar jealousies  of  rude  and  narrow-minded  vil- 
lagers buzz  about  Him  !  Verily  He  took  not 
on  Him  the  nature  of  angels,  but  He  was 
made  in  the  likeness  of  men  ! 

None  of  us  dare  look  down  upon  God's 
Christ.  To  pity  Him  would  be  impertinence 
for  the  highest  of  us ;  yet  to  the  lowliest  He 
is  close  at  hand,  a  true  yokefellow  in  the  most 
threadbare  and  contemptible  of  our  trials. 

He  met,  it  is  true,  with  larger  trials;  He 
was  set  upon  high  mountains  of  temptation 
where  dazzling  ambitions  glittered  before  His 
vision.  No  man  ever  reaches  a  place  so  high 
that  he  can  have  reason  to  feel  that  Jesus  no 
longer  is  able  to  understand  his  temptations, 
and  not  one  of  us  has  the  right  to  imagine 
that  our  Saviour  cannot  sympathize  with  our 
miserable  worries  ;  yes,  even  though  these  be 
the  fret  and  irritation  of  the  idle  or  envious 
talk   which    our   neighbors    chatter    about   us. 

[44] 


COMMUNION    IN    THE    COMMONPLACE 

The  Lord  knows  it  all.  He  can  feel  with  us 
down  to  the  last,  the  most  trivial,  the  most 
unspiritual  of  our  trials. 

Yes ;  Jesus  can  sympathize  with  us,  but 
can  we  sympathize  with  Him? 

And  this  does  not  mean.  Are  we  sorry  for 
Him  ?  but  it  means.  Can  we  feel  with  Him  ? 
Can  we  stand  beside  him  in  the  fellowship 
which  He  held  fast  to,  —  fellowship  with  even 
the  meanly  disagreeable  among  His  fellow- 
men  and  ours  ? 

The  atonement  of  Christ  carries  a  signifi- 
cance which  we  often  fail  to  realize  ;  we  forget 
that  He  bore  the  sins  of  our  neighbors  as  truly 
as  He  bore  our  own,  and  that  communion 
with  Him  involves  the  sharing  of  His  cup, 
the  bearing  with  Him  of  the  burden  of  the 
sins  of  our  brethren.  The  Nazareth  incident 
reveals  this  burden  as,  in  part,  the  dull  load 
of  the  common,  contemptible  sins  of  envy, 
jealousy,  evil  speaking. 

The  lesson  is  not  an  easy  one.  Nothing 
cools  love  for  our  fellow-men  more  quickly 
or  more  surely  than  such  sins.     When  people 

[45] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

say  mean  things  about  us,  when  they  slander 
us  or  vent  their  spite  against  us,  our  hearts 
harden.  Perhaps  we  return  hatred  for  envy 
and  let  the  floods  of  bitterness  overflow  in 
our  souls.  Or  perhaps  we  simply  shut  the 
ofl^ender  out  of  the  reckoning  of  our  fellow- 
ship and  allow  a  cold  disdain,  a  freezing  indif- 
ference, to  take  possession  of  us.  And  this 
not  only  envelops  those  who  have  abused  us, 
but  it  develops  into  a  general  distrust,  and 
causes  us  to  shut  ourselves  up  within  ourselves 
until  the  wells  of  sympathy  with  our  fellow- 
men  run  dry.  But  how  was  it  with  Jesus? 
Did  He  feel  the  bitter  words  of  His  old 
neighbors  ?  Yes,  they  cut  him  to  the  quick ; 
and  yet  we  can  see  that  His  desire  went  out 
to  the  Nazarenes.  Not  His  unwillingness  but 
their  unbelief,  alone  prevented  His  doing  many 
mighty  works  of  blessing  in  Nazareth.  And 
what  He  could,  that  He  did  :  He  laid  His 
hands  upon  a  few  sick  folk  and  healed  them  ; 
He  departed,  not  with  bitterness  but  with  pro- 
found sorrow  in  His  soul,  marvelling  at  their 
unbelief.     And  although    on  this,  or   perhaps 

[46] 


COMMUNION    IN    THE    COMMONPLACE 

on  a  former  occasion  the  madness  of  their 
envy  went  to  the  length  of  an  attempt  to  kill 
Him,  Jesus  never  repudiated  Nazareth.  Again 
and  again  He  returned  to  His  old  home. 
Among  those  jealous  of  Him  were  apparently 
his  own  brethren.  He  never  disowned  them, 
and  they  finally  became  His  devoted  disciples. 

We  might  be  tempted  to  think  Jesus  too 
large-minded  to  care  for  what  the  Nazarenes 
could  say  or  think.  But  He  did  care,  and 
was  too  large-hearted  to  turn  away  from  them. 
He  loved  them  too  truly  to  allow  their  sins 
against  Him  to  harden  His  soul,  and  He 
loved  all  His  fellow-men  too  deeply  to  make 
it  possible  for  Him  to  try  to  escape  the  full 
burden  of  all  their  faults.  It  is  the  glory  of 
Jesus  that  He  was  always  willing  to  accept 
the  full  consequences  of  His  fellowship  with 
men. 

If  any  one  ever  had  reason  to  feel  him- 
self above  men,  this  was  Jesus ;  for  He  was 
the  Christ  of  God  and  heir  to  a  kingdom 
beside  which  the  Roman  Caesar's  was  poor 
and    temporary.      If   any    one    ever    had    the 

[47] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

right  to  hold  himself  apart  from  men  He 
had ;  for  He  was  the  one  spotlessly  pure 
man  who  ever  lived.  But  He  never  did  hold 
Himself  apart  from  men.  As  no  one  else 
ever  did  or  could.  He  made  Himself  not  only 
one  of  His  fellow-men,  but  one  wi^/i  them. 
And  because  He  was  so  high  and  so  holy 
the  consequences  to  Him  of  this  human  fel- 
lowship were  peculiar.  He  could  not  share 
our  sins  and  faults  by  partaking  in  them,  and 
therefore  —  shall  we  say.  He  had  to  bear  with 
them  ?  Now  that  is  what  we  sometimes  try 
to  do ;  but  there  is  no  real  fellowship  in  it. 
Bearing  with  people's  faults,  putting  up  with 
them,  commonly  means  that  we  try  to  make 
the  best  of  what  cannot  be  helped.  There  may 
be  patience  in  it ;  there  may  also  be,  there  is 
often  in  it  separation  instead  of  fellowship. 

Jesus  did  something  far  greater.  He  car- 
ried the  burden  of  our  sins  as  His  own,  —  a 
cumulative  burden  that  culminated  on  the 
Cross  ! 

The  patience  of  Jesus  was  no  softness,  nor 
any  weakness.    It  almost  misrepresents  the  pa- 

[48] 


COMMUNION    IN    THE    COMMONPLACE 

tience  of  Jesus  to  call  it  gentleness ;  for  it  was 
love,  so  broad,  so  deep,  so  high,  that  it  made 
the  sins  and  sorrows  of  the  world  His  very 
own,  so  that  He  carries  the  scars  of  their 
wounds  with  Him  up  even  into  the  heavenly 
glory. 

Now  I  think  we  feel  this  in  its  largeness ; 
but  its  grandeur  affects  us  more  than  its  de- 
tails. Thank  God  our  Christ  carried  the  bur- 
den of  the  great  sins  of  men ;  but  thank  God 
again,  He  carried  the  more  wearing  burden 
of  the  far  more  common  sins,  —  the  little  con- 
temptible faults  which  are  always  bubbling 
up  from  the  seamy  side  of  human  nature 
everywhere. 

Can  we  sympathize  with  Jesus  in  this  ?  Can 
we  drink  of  His  cup?  Have  we  caught  His 
spirit,  so  that  our  love  for  our  fellow-men  rises 
not  only  above  social  fences,  but  higher  still, 
above  the  meanness,  the  narrowness,  the  stu- 
pidity, the  envies  and  jealousies  and  hatefulness, 
which  make  so  large  a  part  of  the  wearing  fret 
and  irritation  of  daily  life  in  the  midst  of  our 
fellow-men  ?  Can  you  bear  such  things  from  a 
+  [  49  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

person  and  say  in  your  heart,  "  Yes,  he  is  all  this, 
but  he  is  my  brother,  and  his  faults  are  part  of 
my  burden  "  ? 

Our  constant  tendency  is  to  make  our  re- 
ligion, not  perhaps  a  thing  of  Sundays  and 
of  special  occasions,  but  something  which  be- 
longs to  the  great  affairs  of  our  souls,  and 
therefore  has  little  to  do  with  the  small,  the 
mean,  the  disagreeable  things  of  life.  Partly 
this  is  a  result  of  a  natural  bent  toward  unreality 
and  formalism,  or,  as  it  might  more  honestly  be 
called,  a  bent  toward  unbelief  in  the  reality  of 
our  relation  to  God.  A  great  deal  of  religion 
is  either  superstition  or  conventionality,  —  either 
a  vague  feeling  that  it  may  be  well  to  keep  on 
the  right  side  of  the  Higher,  Unseen  Powers, 
or  else  a  matter  of  habit  or  fashion,  —  and  in 
neither  case  can  it  have  much  to  do  with  what 
are,  after  all,  the  ever  present  realities  of  life. 

But  there  is  a  more  creditable  reason  why 
it  is  difficult  for  some  persons  to  allow  any 
contact  between  their  religion  and  the  prosaic 
things  of  daily  experience. 

It  is  doubtless  true  of  certain  refined,  sensi- 

[50] 


COMMUNION    IN    THE    COMMONPLACE 

tive,  and  deeply  reverential  natures  that  their 
thoughts  of  God  make  Him  appear  too  high 
and  too  sacred  to  be  touched  or  troubled  with 
the  pettiness,  and  especially  the  degrading  petti- 
ness, of  human  life.  The  things  which  such 
natures  hate  and  shrink  from,  whose  very  touch 
is  felt  as  contamination,  they  cannot  bring  into 
His  presence.  And  so,  when  evil  passions 
rise  in  their  souls  and  perhaps  break  out,  as 
such  things  will  break  out  even  from  the  souls 
of  such  persons ;  or  when  they  suffer,  as  some- 
times they  must,  from  the  coarseness  or  the 
spitefulness  of  meaner  men,  they  feel  themselves 
shut  out  from  God,  —  either  unfit  for  His  pres- 
ence or  unable  to  ask  His  help  ;  unworthy  to 
approach  the  Holy  One  until  there  is  a  lull  in 
the  storm  of  disturbed  emotion  and  it  seems 
possible  to  come  to  Him  in  suitable  mental 
and  spiritual  poise. 

We  can  all  pray  when  the  great  troubles 
come;  but  when  the  little  vexations  —  above 
all,  the  belittling  ones,  those  that  make  us 
ashamed  of  ourselves  or  disgusted  with  our 
fellow-men  —  buzz  about  us  like  swarms  of  ven- 

[51] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

omous  insects,  then  there  are  few  of  us  who  feel 
in  a  mood  for  prayer,  and  fewer  still  who  have 
the  deep  and  real  faith  which  keeps  our  com- 
munication with  Our  Father  unbroken. 

What  a  lesson  for  us  rises  out  of  this  picture 
of  Jesus  at  Nazareth  !  The  bare  fact  that  He 
was  there,  —  He  the  Holy  One,  the  Christ,  tak- 
ing His  place  in  the  synagogue  of  that  dreary 
country  town,  in  the  midst  of  its  quarrelsome, 
narrow,  bigoted  congregation,  exposing  Him- 
self to  their  mean  gossip,  their  despicable  spite, 
their  degrading  envies  and  the  angry  impulses 
of  their  small-minded  jealousies,  —  the  very  fact 
that  He,  our  Saviour,  endured  this,  not  only 
proves  that  He  knows  all  about  the  temptations 
that  arise  out  of  such  things  and  can  sympa- 
thize with  all  who  suffer  from  them,  but  it 
ought  to  dispel  at  once  and  forever  any  idea 
that  the  humiliating  vexations  of  our  lives  can 
be  a  bar  to  communion  with  His  Father  and 
ours. 

The  truth  about  Nazareth  appears  to  be  that 
it  lacked  the  poetic  charm  of  the  veritably  rural 
village.      It  was  not  so  very  small  a  place,  it 

[52] 


COMMUNION    IN    THE    COMMONPLACE 

numbered  three  or  four  thousand  inhabitants, 
it  was  upon  a  frequented  route  of  trade  and 
travel,  its  people  were  hardly  unsophisticated 
peasants.  There  was  little  of  the  picturesque 
about  the  town  except  its  situation,  and  it  bore 
an  unpleasant  reputation.  "  Can  any  good 
come  out  of  Nazareth  ?  "  So  Nathaniel  said, 
doubtless  because  others  said  it  and  also  be- 
cause he  knew  the  place. 

Nazareth  was  not  even  picturesquely  wicked, 
but  just  common,  quarrelsome,  low  in  social 
tone.  Yet  there,  fellow-Christian,  your  Saviour 
passed  by  far  the  greater  number  of  His 
earthly  years.  There  he  lived  His  boyhood, 
and  grew  up,  and  worked  at  His  trade ;  there 
He  was  the  Carpenter.  Nazareth  was  His 
home,  to  which  he  often  returned  even  after 
the  eyes  of  all  Israel  began  to  be  fixed  on 
Him  as  the  hoped-for  or  the  feared  Messiah. 
He  was  always  known  as  Jesus  of  Nazareth  ; 
yea,  the  very  inscription  on  His  Cross  named 
Him  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  and  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
He  will  be  until  He  comes  the  second  time  in 
power  and  glory   to  judge   this   world.      All 

[53] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

through  His  life  Jesus  carried  the  monotonous, 
leaden  burden  of  the  vulgar  sins  of  His  earthly 
dwelling-place,  and  the  depressing  cloud  of  its 
colorless  cares  ever  hung  about  Him. 

Jesus  never  repudiated  this  fellowship  with 
the  commonplace,  with  the  low  average  which 
is  the  dark  average  of  humanity.  In  His  spirit 
we  know  He  lived  above  it  all  ;  He  never  al- 
lowed it  to  degrade  or  conquer  or  even  depress 
Him.  But  He  never  refused  or  shrank  from 
the  burden  of  it ;  He  was  never  ashamed  to  be 
called  The  Nazarene.  And  never  for  one 
moment  did  this  fellowship  with  the  common- 
place make  Him  love  men  less ;  nay.  He 
loved  them  the  more  for  it,  with  deeper  sym- 
pathy because  by  experience  He  knew  their 
need. 

If  we  would  follow  Jesus,  we  must  follow 
Him  through  Nazareth.  There  is  no  place 
where  communion  with  Him  and  through 
Him  with  Our  Father  may  be  more  real  than 
in  the  Nazareth  of  those  little  degradations 
which  constantly  fall  upon  every  one  of  us  as 
the  bitter  crosses  of  our  day's  work. 

[54] 


COMMUNION    IN    THE    COMMONPLACE 

What  a  light  Nazareth  casts  upon  the  prayer 
of  Jesus  for  his  disciples  that  they  may  be,  like 
Himself,  "  in  the  world,  but  not  of  it"  ! 

It  is  possible  and  blessed  to  live  in  such 
fellowship  with  Jesus  that  our  fellowship  with 
our  most  faulty  brother-men  and  the  bearing 
of  our  share  of  the  burden  of  common,  thread- 
bare sin  and  fault,  instead  of  degrading  us,  may 
refine  our  souls,  and  show  us  a  clear  path  up 
that  shining  way  whither  Jesus  our  Master  has 
gone  into  His  Father's  Presence. 


[55] 


CONSIDER   THE   LILIES 


Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field,  how  they  grow ; 
they  toil  not,  neither  do  they  spin  :  and  yet  I  say 
unto  you,  that  even  Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was  not 
arrayed  like  one  of  these.  —  Matthew  vi.  28,  29. 


CONSIDER   THE   LILIES 

The  sympathy  of  Jesus  with  men  is  felt  in 
all  His  life  and  His  words  ;  but  here  we  catch  a 
glimpse  of  His  sympathy  with  nature.  Nothing 
He  ever  said  is  more  beautiful;  and  yet,  the 
doctrine  of  this  text  —  for  it  is  not  only  poetry 
but  doctrine  —  is  as  hard  a  saying  to  worldly 
minds  as  anything  Jesus  ever  spoke.  The  glad 
dependence  on  our  Heavenly  Father,  the  un- 
limited trust  in  His  power  and  His  love  which 
Jesus  commends  in  this  portion  of  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount  have  always  appeared,  to  worldly 
minds,  visionary  and  unpractical.  The  feeling 
toward  this  text  is  well  shown  by  its  most  com- 
mon literary  use.  It  furnishes  a  semi-humorous 
proverb  satirizing  the  ways  of  the  butterflies 
of  fashion,  or  of  the  happy-go-lucky  ne'er-do- 
wells  who,  like  the  lilies,  toil  not,  neither  do 
they  spin. 

But  we  can  scarcely  afford   to  dismiss   this 
word  of  the  Lord  in  any  such  flippant  manner. 

[59] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Embedded  in  Jesus'  doctrine  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence is  a  precious  vein  of  teaching  about  Beauty 
and  its  place  in  God's  world.  The  teaching, 
though  not  always  clearly  understood,  is  felt  by 
all  who  are  in  sympathy  with  Jesus;  and  to  many 
of  His  truest  lovers  it  comes  with  peculiar  satis- 
faction. Nothing  brings  their  worshipped  com- 
rades nearer  than  this  revelation  of  the  soul  of 
Jesus. 

But  there  are  several  sorts  of  people,  Chris- 
tians and  others,  to  whom  this  warm  confes- 
sion of  the  love  —  nay,  the  reverence  —  of 
Jesus  for  the  beautiful  must  be  bewildering. 
Is  it  possible  that  He,  Son  of  God,  Saviour 
of  the  world,  can  seriously  care  for  so  trivial, 
so  inconsequent,  so  useless  a  thing  as  mere 
beauty  ? 

Can  it  be  consistent  with  the  dignity  of  His 
solemn  mission  to  regard  His  admiration  of  the 
lilies  as  anything  more  than  a  passing  emotion  ? 
Is  it  not  sufficient  to  find  in  this  word  of  the 
Great  Teacher  an  illustration  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence, or  an  example  of  the  wisdom  and  power 
of  the  Creator  who    condescends    to  add  the 

[60] 


CONSIDER    THE    LILIES 

trifle  of  adornment  to  His  work  and  in  the  very 
by-play  of  His  skill  so  easily  puts  to  shame 
man's  most  ambitious  efforts  ? 

Now,  it  is  indeed  true  that  God's  care  for 
the  lilies  does  illustrate  His  greater  care  for 
human  souls ;  and  true  that  His  inimitable 
skill  is  shown  in  garniture  of  the  flowers. 

And  yet,  when  the  merely  illustrative  teach- 
ing of  these  words  of  Jesus  is  exhausted  we  are 
left  unsatisfied.  A  tone  lingers  in  our  ears 
which  assures  us  that  in  the  very  words  them- 
selves there  is  a  larger  message.  Let  us  read 
them  over  carefully. 

"  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field,  how  they 
grow ;  they  toil  not,  neither  do  they  spin  :  and 
yet  I  say  unto  you,  that  even  Solomon  in  all 
his  glory  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these." 

Try  to  forget  that  this  is  the  Christ,  the  Son 
of  God,  who  speaks.  Think  what  it  would 
mean  if  some  unknown  man  had  said  this ; 
think  of  him,  talking  to  a  crowd  gathered  out 
of  doors  in  the  warm  sunshine  on  an  open 
hillside  whose  slopes  are  covered  with  tangled 
growth   of  grass   and   thorny  shrubs,  through 

[6i] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

which,  here  and  there,  flowers  of  the  wild  lily 
rear  their  glorious  heads. 

Tell  me  now ;  what  is  in  the  mind  of  this 
man,  speaking  through  his  words  ! 

You  will  surely  say,  he  has  a  very  tender 
feeling  for  nature  ;  he  more  than  admires,  he  al- 
most worships  pure  and  essential  beauty;  and  he 
has  a  keen  taste,  he  knows  the  difference  between 
man's  pretentious  imitations  and  the  perfect 
touch  of  God's  hand.  Solomon's  oriental 
splendor  does  not  appeal  to  him,  but  the  shape 
and  hue  of  a  wild  lily  goes  straight  to  his  heart. 

Is  the  case  in  any  way  different  because,  in- 
stead of  some  unknown  man,  this  is  Jesus,  Son 
of  God,  who  speaks  ?  It  is  different  only  be- 
cause it  is  far  stronger ;  for  in  Jesus  we  have 
the  emotions  and  the  knowledge  of  the  Perfect 
Man  ;  we  have  here,  in  His  word,  a  revelation 
of  the  mind  of  Him  who  is  the  Truth. 

The  revelation  goes  farther  than  we  think. 
It  is  not  enough  to  say  that  Jesus  loved  nature 
and  appreciated  beauty ;  we  grievously  misun- 
derstand Him  if  we  allow  ourselves  to  imagine 
that  His  feeling  for  the  beautiful  was  a  passing 

[62  ] 


CONSIDER    THE    LILIES 

emotion,  a  grudgingly  permitted  relaxation  in 
the  midst  of  more  serious  affairs.  As  Jesus 
saw  it,  nothing  could  be  more  serious ;  for 
beauty,  in  the  way  He  saw  and  felt  it,  is  eternal 
truth.      It  is  an  element  of  the  nature  of  God. 

There  is  something  vastly  pathetic,  and  en- 
lightening as  well,  in  the  after  history  of  the 
lily,  as  it  lay  in  the  mind  of  Jesus  and  is  dis- 
closed in  His  words. 

"  If  God  so  clothe  the  grass  of  the  field, 
which  to-day  is  and  to-morrow  is  cast  into  the 
oven  .  .  .  *' 

I  think  we  shall  hardly  mistake  if  we  read 
into  His  words  a  gentle  reproach,  not  precisely 
of  man's  ruthlessness,  but  of  human  indiffer- 
ence to  God's  finest  and  most  loving  skill. 

Now,  mark  it  well !  Jesus  does  not  complain 
because  people  too  poor  to  buy  better  fuel  cut 
down  the  lilies  along  with  the  bushes  surround- 
ing them  to  make  the  fire  needful  for  cooking 
their  humble  food.  He  knows  that  God  never 
grudges  His  best  gifts  for  man's  most  common 
use.  Man  comes  first ;  all  things  in  this  world 
are  for  the  sake  of  God's  children  :  "  If  God  so 

[  63  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

clothe  the  grass  of  the  field  (and  the  lilies), 
how  much  more  shall  He  clothe  you,  O  ye  of 
little  faith  ?  " 

And  for  that  very  reason  we  are  guilty  of  a 
wretched  blunder  if  we  conclude  that  God's 
heaping  of  His  finest  handiwork  upon  us  for 
the  supply  of  our  coarsest  needs  proves  that  He 
sets  no  value  upon  it ;  and  if  we  therefore  ar- 
gue that  He  gives  the  lily  its  heavenly  hue 
from  mere  caprice,  or  makes  the  sunlight  un- 
speakably glorious  as  it  strikes  through  morn- 
ing mists,  or  colors  the  sunset  clouds  at  even- 
ing, just  for  His  own  amusement. 

The  beauty  of  God's  world  has  a  meaning  to 
Him ;  and  to  us  because  we  are  His  children. 
It  ought  to  have  for  us  a  meaning  far  beyond 
those  baser  uses  which  in  His  lavish  love  He 
allows  for  the  sake  of  our  earthly  needs. 

The  whole  argument  of  Jesus  in  this  part  of 
His  immortal  sermon  is  one  of  protest  against 
that  dull,  narrow,  selfish  earthiness  which 
sees  no  good  in  anything  that  is  not  what  we 
stupidly  call  "useful,"  —  that  worldly  disposition 
which  measures  everything  by  the  rule  of  bodily 

[64] 


CONSIDER    THE    LILIES 

necessity  or  comfort,  and  asks,  even  when  the 
question  is  one  of  truth  or  righteousness  or  our 
soul's  salvation,  "  Will  it  pay  ? " 

We  have  in  these  words  of  Jesus  about  the 
lilies,  a  profound  lesson  upon  the  general  sub- 
ject of  worldliness. 

There  has  been,  there  is  still  a  tendency  in 
certain  minds  to  count  everything  in  the  world 
as  worldly,  to  separate  the  spiritual  from  all 
that  belongs  to  the  natural  order  of  things,  and 
regard  the  spiritual  life  as  something  antag- 
onistic to  the  world,  —  even  the  natural  world. 

The  logical  outcome  of  such  ideas  is  that 
the  natural  enjoyments  of  our  earthly  life  are 
accepted  only  with  hesitation,  and  justified  only 
by  necessity,  and  the  beauty  which  fills  the 
world  is  looked  upon  with  suspicion. 

Nor  should  every  one  who  feels  in  this  way 
be  harshly  condemned.  This  feeling  is  often 
a  disease  of  noble  souls  on  whom  the  prob- 
lems of  life  in  a  world  cursed  by  sin,  the 
awful  facts  of  the  present,  and  more  awful  pos- 
sibilities of  the  future  weigh  with  crushing 
cruelty. 

5  [  65  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

The  earnestness  which  fears  everything  pleas- 
ant as  a  probably  dangerous  allurement,  and 
disowns  everything  which  might  distract  from 
one  high  aim,  merits  only  our  deep  respect. 
And  the  more  so  since,  being  out  of  fashion, 
it  troubles  us  scarcely  at  all.  There  is  little 
enough  left  of  it,  God  knows,  in  the  world  of 
our  day. 

Our  temptations  lie  in  a  different  direction. 
Our  danger  lurks  in  a  tendency  to  regard  this 
world  as  the  sum  of  our  existence,  and  the 
life  here  as  complete  and  an  end  unto  itself. 
The  beauty  of  the  world  seems  made  for 
nothing  more  than  our  personal,  passing,  and 
selfish  pleasure ;  and  therefore  its  sensuous, 
rather  than  its  spiritual  aspect  appeals  to  us. 

Again  the  logical  outcome  is  that,  the  idea 
of  beauty  is  degraded.  Beauty  becomes  a 
mere  adjunct,  an  ornament  of  life ;  the  idea 
of  beauty  falls  even  lower  and  becomes  not 
only  sensuous  but  sensual,  and  thus  our  world- 
liness '  has  its  revenge  and  becomes  its  own 
punishment  in  our  degradation.  The  light  of 
God  which  shines  upon  the  world  is  darkened, 

[66] 


CONSIDER    THE    LILIES 

and  beauty  appears,  even  to  honest  worldings 
at  best  a  trifling  thing,  of  doubtful  usefulness, 
and  therefore  something  whose  enjoyment  must 
be  relegated  to  idle  hours  when  money-making 
is  out  of  the  question. 

The  ways  in  which  a  stern,  religious  asceti- 
cism and  a  gross  worldliness  may  approach 
each  other  are  remarkable ;  and  in  nothing  do 
they  come  more  nearly  together  than  in  their 
treatment  of  the  beautiful.  Both  regard  beauty 
as  something  frivolous,  of  small  importance ; 
a  possible  and  probable  hindrance  to  the  seri- 
ous business  of  life.  Both  alike,  though  in 
different  ways,  suspect  the  beautiful  as  full  of 
lurking  dangers.  Both  fall  into  the  folly  which 
Christ  condemns,  and  make  life  consist  in  per- 
sonal anxieties,  and  look  upon  the  real  things 
of  life  as  hard  necessities  to  be  mastered  by 
force  of  personal  will.  Both  practically  refuse 
to  see  that  God  is  our  Heavenly  Father  and 
that  this  is  His  world,  —  a  world  full  of  His 
thoughts  which  are  higher  than  our  thoughts, 
and  His  ways,  which  are  higher  than  our 
ways. 

[67] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Let  us  turn  to  Jesus.  It  is  clear  that  He 
knows  that  the  world  is  full  of  unworldly  facts. 
In  the  same  breath  in  which  He  warns  us  not 
to  lay  up  treasures  upon  earth  and  implores 
us  to  make  our  investments  in  heaven,  He  calls 
upon  us  to  consider  the  lilies.  And  His  words 
imply  that,  though  the  lilies  grow  out  of  the 
ground  in  the  midst  of  the  neglected  spaces 
of  the  world*s  bosom,  there  is  something  heav- 
enly about  them,  —  a  quality  not  to  be  com- 
pared to  man's  clumsy  art.  In  effect,  Jesus 
tells  us  that  the  beauty  of  the  lilies  is  the  re- 
flection of  our  Father's  perfection. 

There  may  be  a  significance  in  the  particu- 
lar example  chosen  of  Jesus.  The  lily,  though 
often  one  of  the  most  gorgeous  of  flowers,  is 
one  of  the  least  sensuous  in  its  suggestions. 
It  bears  in  itself  a  hint  of  the  spiritual.  The 
white  lily  is  not  only  the  chosen,  but  the 
naturally  chosen  emblem   of  purity. 

But  whether  the  lilies  of  the  field  as  Jesus 
saw  them  were  white  or  flaming  red  ;  whether 
they  may  even  have  been  some  other  flower 
known  to  us  by  a  different  name  makes   no 

[68] 


CONSIDER    THE    LILIES 

difference.  It  is  enough  that  Jesus  teaches 
how  the  world,  even  in  its  obscurest  and  most 
neglected  corners,  is  full  of  God's  thoughts ; 
and  enough  that  the  glory  and  beauty  of  His 
thought  puts  to  shame  our  worldly  wisdom 
concerning  useful  and  necessary  things.  He 
teaches  us  that  this  world  is  full  of  heavenly 
reflections.  And  by  means  of  these,  in  one 
heart-searching  word  He  reverses  the  worldly 
order.  He  shows  us  that  Spirit  is  the  real 
thing;  and  the  things  of  the  body  and  of 
the  earthly  life  are  only  adjuncts,  necessary 
indeed,  yet  simply  servants  to  the  real  and 
great  thing. 

Can  anything  be  more  intangible  than 
beauty?  You  cannot  analyze  it.  You  can 
tell  that  a  flower  is  red,  or  golden  yellow,  or 
sky  blue,  or  pearly  white  ;  you  may  say  that 
its  form  is  graceful  or  glorious.  You  have 
not  in  the  least  explained  the  impression  it 
makes. 

You  call  the  ocean  grand,  or  the  mountains 
majestic,  or  the  sky  heavenly.  Your  words 
have  no  meaning,  except  that  they  attempt  in 

[69] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

some  feeble  way  to  express  an  impression  made 
upon  your  inmost  soul. 

The  idea  of  beauty  may  indeed,  be  mixed 
with  fleshly  thoughts  ;  but  then  we  know  it  is 
corrupted.  Beauty,  pure  and  simple,  touches 
only  your  soul,  your  spirit. 

It  is  mockingly  said  by  anatomists  that 
beauty  is  only  skin  deep.  The  saying  is  false, 
because  beauty  is  not  even  skin  deep.  Per- 
sonal beauty  is  in  some  mysterious  way  a 
reflection  from  the  soul  which  lives  in  the 
body.  A  human  face  may  be  fair  to  look 
upon,  yet  only  sensuous  ;  or  the  features  may 
be  homely,  yet  full  of  an  unexplainable  light 
that  makes  the  face  most  beautiful. 

And  that  sort  of  beauty,  whether  in  a  flower 
or  a  human  face,  is  something  no  human  art 
can  produce  and  all  the  money  in  the  world 
could  not  buy.  There  is  no  use  in  it,  meas- 
ured bv  our  coarse  standard  of  the  useful. 
You  cannot  live  on  beauty,  or  turn  it  into 
food  or  clothes,  or  build  up  towns,  or  create 
steamship  lines  or  trolley  roads  with  it.  It 
is  n't  business,  it  does  n't  pay.     But  when  all 

[70] 


CONSIDER    THE    LILIES 

the  roar  of  the  world's  business  is  hushed,  and 
all  the  greedy  grasp  after  earthly  goods  has 
become  nerveless  and  dead,  and  all  the  anx- 
ieties, great  and  small,  of  this  life  of  busy 
trifling  have  sobbed  themselves  into  eternal 
sleep,  and  all  the  world's  hard-won  wealth  is 
melted  in  the  fervent  heat  of  the  final  confla- 
gration,—  then  this  reflection  of  the  Eternal 
Mind  of  God  will  live  on,  along  with  other 
intangible  yet  undying  things,  like  righteous- 
ness, truth,  love. 

The  world  is  full  of  beauty,  yet  beauty  does 
not  find  an  altogether  congenial  home  here. 
The  lily  fades  quickly ;  to-day  resplendent, 
to-morrow  it  may  ignobly  help  to  cook  a  poor 
man's  dinner.  Yet  beauty  is  everlastingly  re- 
produced. God  keeps  the  world  full  of  it 
for  our  teaching. 

Beauty  is  in  the  world,  but  not  of  it.  In 
heaven  it  is  native,  part  of  eternal  life,  because 
it  is  part  of  God's  nature. 

In  this  world  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our 
God  is  upon  us  because  it  shines  down  from 
Him  into  His  world  —  even  into  a  sin-stained 

[71] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

world.  In  heaven  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our 
God  will  be  in  us  as  well  as  round  about  us, 
an  everlasting  light  and  splendor. 

I  think  in  heaven  they  would  laugh  at  the 
notion  that  beauty  is  not  useful.  Beauty  and 
Truth  would  seem  to  stand  there  in  a  place 
something  like  that  of  food  and  clothing  in 
this  temporary  life. 

Christ's  word  about  the  lilies  calls  us  back 
to  its  beginning  in  that  other  word  : 

"  Lay  not  up  treasures  upon  earth,  where 
moth  and  rust  corrupt,  .  .  .  but  lay  up  for 
yourselves  treasures  in  heaven,  .  .  .  for  where 
your  treasure  is,  there  will  your  heart  be  also." 


[72] 


THE   MUTUALITY   OF   FORGIVENESS 


Wherefore  I  say  unto  thee.  Her  sins,  which  are 
many,  are  forgiven  ;  for  she  loved  much  ;  but  to 
whom  little  is  forgiven,  the  same  loveth  little. 

Luke  vii.  47. 


THE    MUTUALITY    OF   FORGIVENESS 

The  Gospels  are  full  of  suggested  biog- 
raphies, glimpses  of  lives  with  untold  histories. 
The  story  of  the  woman  who  was  a  sinner, 
whom  we  see  as  a  forgiven  sinner  is  one  of 
them,  A  protecting  veil  of  brotherly  love  is 
thrown  over  her  past. 

Both  tradition  and  criticism  have  tried,  in 
their  equally  clumsy  and  impertinent  ways,  to 
tear  away  the  veil.  Criticism  would  make  this 
story  nothing  more  than  Luke's  version  of  the 
anointing  of  Jesus  by  Mary  of  Bethany.  Tra- 
dition identifies  the  woman  who  was  a  sinner 
at  once  with  Mary  Magdalene  and  with  Mary 
of  Bethany. 

A  foul  wrong  is  thus  done  against  one  of  the 
most  holy  and  beautiful  characters  in  Gospel 
history ;  and  Jesus  is  wronged  by  the  impli- 
cation that  His  forgiving  love  was  sufficiently 
uncommon  to  make  it  necessary  to  give  a 
name  to  each  forgiven  one. 

[75] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

We  do  not  know  who  this  woman  was.  We 
know  neither  her  name  nor  her  story.  But 
the  circumstances  in  the  midst  of  which  we  see 
her  make  it  well  nigh  certain  that  she  had  met 
Jesus  before.  Possibly  she  may  have  listened 
to  Him  as  hundreds  of  others  listened  while 
He  declared  His  gospel  of  Divine  love  and 
forgiveness.  It  is,  however,  scarcely  satisfying 
to  regard  this  woman  simply  as  an  impressed 
auditor  of  public  preaching.  The  scene  in 
Simon's  house  points  backward  to  something 
more  personal.  We  cannot  escape  the  feeling, 
which  amounts  almost  to  conviction,  that  in 
some  way  she  had  met  Jesus  face  to  face. 

The  story  which  lies  behind  what  we  are 
allowed  to  see  belongs  indeed  to  those  many 
other  things  which  Jesus  did  which  are  not 
written ;  and  yet  some  searching  glance  of  the 
Christ  into  her  very  soul  must  have  revealed 
her  to  herself  Some  mighty  word  of  His 
must  have  opened  a  door  of  hope  in  her  ap- 
parently hopeless  life  and  made  her  a  new 
creature  in  possession  of  an  incredible  salva- 
tion ;  because  this  deed  of  hers,  this  so  costly 

[76] 


THE    MUTUALITY    OF    FORGIVENESS 

anointing  of  her    Saviour,  was   evidently   not 
prayer,  but  praise. 

The  very  tears  with  which  she  washed  the 
feet  of  Jesus  were  tears  of  joy,  even  though 
the  sorrow  of  past  sins  may  have  mingled  in 
them.  This  uncalculating,  this  passionate  ado- 
ration is  not  so  much  imploration  as  it  is  a 
most  profound  gratitude.  Nay,  it  is  more 
than  gratitude :  it  is  the  devotion  of  her  res- 
cued soul  shown  in  demonstration  of  a  love 
whose  depth  can  be  measured  only  by  the 
unbounded  reverence  through  which  it  appears. 
The  lack  of  sympathy  with  which  her  adora- 
tion was  viewed  by  Simon  and  his  guests,  the 
loneliness  of  it  in  the  midst  of  that  coldly 
respectable  company,  does  but  accentuate  its 
strength  and  beauty. 

But  Simon's  unexpressed  comment  betrays 
him  as  surely  as  the  woman's  adoration  reveals 
her. 

It  would  probably  be  unjust  to  reckon 
Simon,  even  though  a  Pharisee,  among  the 
enemies  of  Jesus.  "  He  desired  Jesus  that 
He  would  eat  with  him." 

[77] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

From  religious  as  well  as  from  personal 
reasons  a  Pharisee  would  be  fastidious  in  the 
choice  of  guests  at  his  table.  We  must  give 
Simon  the  credit  of  believing  that  his  desire 
was  an  honest  desire.  Possibly  he  thought  he 
was  helping  Jesus :  doing  Him  a  favor,  giving 
Him  a  social  Hft. 

There  would  seem  a  touch  of  patronage  in 
Simon's  treatment  of  Jesus.  It  was  enough 
to  ask  this  Prophet  of  Nazareth,  this  young 
man  from  the  back  country  of  Galilee,  to  eat 
with  him.  It  was  uncalled-for  to  offer  such 
attentions  as  would  be  suitable  to  a  Rabbi 
from  Jerusalem.  The  washing  of  the  feet,  the 
anointing  appropriate  to  a  really  distinguished 
guest,  might  well  be  omitted.  No  insult  was 
necessarily  intended.  Simon's  neglect  may 
easily  have  been  nothing  worse  than  the  care- 
less yet  keen  sense  of  social  discrimination 
common  with  such  men  as  he. 

The  conventionality  of  Simon's  mind  is 
vividly  seen  in  his  criticism  of  Jesus'  reception 
of  the  worship  of  the  sinful  yet  forgiven 
woman.    A  prophet  —  a  real  prophet  —  would 

[78] 


THE    MUTUALITY    OF    FORGIVENESS 

have  known  what  sort  of  creature  this  is  who 
is  touching  Him  :  He  would  have  recoiled  in 
holy  horror. 

Simon  was  a  good  man ;  but  his  sympa- 
thies, his  knowledge  of  himself,  his  sense  of 
humanity,  his  sense  of  sin,  were  all  fettered, 
cramped,  dwarfed  by  the  social  and  religious 
proprieties  which  had  grown  with  interlacing 
bands  about  his  soul. 

So  much  for  the  characters  in  this  story. 
It  is  needful  to  have  them  in  clear  view  if  we 
would  understand  the  teaching  about  forgive- 
ness which  the  events  of  the  story  drew  forth 
from  Jesus. 

The  parable  with  which  Jesus  answered  the 
unspoken  thought  in  Simon's  heart  is  exceed- 
ingly simple.  It  was  meant  to  be;  it  was 
spoken  to  Simon  and  adapted  to  his  under- 
standing. We  may  for  the  present  pass  by 
both  the  simple  little  parable  and  its  applica- 
tion, so  dramatic,  so  crushing,  and  come  at 
once  to  the  doctrine  announced  in  the  text : 
"  Wherefore  I  say  unto  thee,  her  sins,  which 
are  many,  are  forgiven ;  for  she  loved  much : 

[79] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

but  to  whom  little  is  forgiven,  the  same  loveth 
little/' 

The  phrasing  of  this  word  of  Jesus  is 
curious :  "Her  sins,  which  are  many,  are  for- 
given ;  for  she  loved  much." 

This  might  seem  to  hint  at  a  price-list,  and 
a  strange  one :  so  much  forgiveness  for  so 
much  love. 

But  the  second  clause  is  different.  It  drops 
the  commonplace  of  the  parable  of  creditor  and 
debtor.  '*  To  whom  little  is  forgiven,  the  same 
loveth  little." 

The  price-list  —  if  it  be  a  price-list  —  is 
reversed.  The  Lord  does  not  pay  us  in  for- 
giveness according  to  the  measure  of  our  love. 
We  pay  Him.  So  much  love  for  so  much 
forgiveness. 

Now,  I  believe  there  is  a  meaning  in  this 
apparently  confused  manner  of  statement: 
there  is  a  higher  logic  here  than  any  logic 
of  mere  legality.  Jesus  is  not  stating  a  formal 
law ;  He  is  not  laying  down  a  rule  by  which 
we  may  regulate  feeling  or  action.  Jesus  gives 
us  here  a  psychological  reflection,  a  penetrating 

[80] 


THE    MUTUALITY    OF    FORGIVENESS 

meditation  upon  the  way  in  which  forgiveness 
and  love  act  and  react  upon  each  other  in  the 
human  soul. 

We  have  in  this  word  of  Jesus  something 
truly  profound.  He  tells  us  that  a  certain 
condition  of  soul  is  needful  before  forgiveness 
can  come  in.  Not  only  is  it  true  that  the 
loving  soul  is  open  to  forgiveness,  but  only  in 
a  loving  soul  can  forgiveness  live  and  breathe 
and  come  to  the  ripeness  of  full  blessedness. 

It  would  be  absurd  to  suppose  that  this 
woman  who  was  a  sinner  was  paid  for  anoint- 
ing the  feet  of  Jesus,  for  her  tears,  for  her 
devotion  with  an  extra  portion  of  His  forgive- 
ness. And  yet  it  is  true  that  she  was  greatly 
forgiven,  because  she  loved  much. 

The  truth  is  that  such  a  sense  of  forgiveness 
as  was  hers,  such  a  blessed  power  of  it  in  her 
life,  such  an  overwhelming  joy,  could  never 
have  come  to  her  without  some  deep,  strong 
sympathy  between  her  soul  and  the  soul  of 
her  forgiver. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  soul  of  a  Simonite, 
ready  to  give  only  legal  interest  of  gratitude 
6  [8i] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

for  pardon  received  ;  unwilling  to  believe  in 
the  need  of  any  great  forgiveness,  —  the  soul 
of  the  Simonite,  legal,  critical,  self-satisfied, 
stifles  even  such  forgiveness  as  it  is  compelled 
to  receive  and  makes  it  "  little^ 

Forgiveness,  according  to  Jesus,  has  in  it  a 
mutual  quality.  Before  forgiveness  can  be 
real,  in  order  that  forgiveness  may  become  a 
living  fact,  there  must  be  sympathy  between 
the  Forgiver  and  the  Forgiven. 

And  is  not  this  in  accord  with  human  na- 
ture ?  Do  we  not  find  precisely  this  in  our 
human  experience  ? 

To  forgive  is  not  easy ;  but  it  is  scarcely 
easier,  in  fact  it  may  easily  be  harder,  to  be 
forgiven  than  to  forgive. 

It  is  a  common  saying,  founded  on  bitterly 
common  experience,  that  when  a  man  wrongs 
you  he  begins  from  that  moment  to  hate 
you.  Certainly  it  is  true  that  the  effect  of 
sin  against  a  fellow-man  is  the  hardening  of 
the  heart  against  him.  This  is  but  natural. 
The  sinner  must  do  it  in  order  to  justify 
himself 

[82] 


THE    MUTUALITY    OF    FORGIVENESS 

If  you  are  uncommonly  large-hearted  you 
may  want  to  forgive  the  man  who  has  wronged 
you.  But  how  can  you  forgive  while  he  re- 
mains hard  and  bitter  in  soul  toward  you  ? 
You  may  say  to  him,  "  I  forgive  you  !  "  But 
until  his  feeling  is  changed  your  forgiveness 
falls  upon  flint,  and  flutters  back  to  you  a 
poor,  broken-winged  messenger.  Forgiveness 
must  be  not  only  given,  but  received,  before  it 
becomes  real  and  living  forgiveness. 

Very  likely  the  man  knows  he  has  sinned 
against  you.  His  conscience  tells  him  he  is 
in  the  wrong.  And  yet,  do  you  think  it  is  go- 
ing to  be  easy  for  him  to  crush  out  that  bitter- 
ness, to  humble  that  pride  of  self-justification 
which  stands  between  him  and  the  acceptance 
of  your  forgiveness  ?  It  means  much  to  be 
forgiven.  There  is  necessarily  a  humiliation 
in  it  as  hard  to  endure  as  the  revengeful,  un- 
forgiving spirit  is  hard  to  conquer.  By  its  very 
nature  forgiveness  is  give  and  take.  It  must 
be  mutual  before  it  can  be  perfected. 

No  doubt  it  is  true  —  and  blessed  be  God 
it  is  true  —  that  the  patient  long-suffering  of  a 

[83] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

true  forgiver  can  sometimes  conquer  the  bitter- 
ness and  pride  of  the  one  who  needs  forgive- 
ness and  by  its  very  magnanimity,  or  rather  by 
its  proof  of  love,  bring  him  to  repentance. 

And  yet  even  so,  the  forgiveness  cannot 
complete  itself  until  it  is  accepted.  There  must 
be  some  outgoing  toward  the  forgiver  ;  some 
confession,  not  only  of  sin  but  of  sympathy ; 
some  recognition  of  a  bond  of  love  between 
forgiver  and  forgiven,  —  to  consummate  the 
forgiveness. 

When  love  does  conquer,  when  the  sinner 
says  to  himself  "  I  can  stand  this  no  longer,** 
and  comes  confessing  and  craving  the  forgive- 
ness waiting  for  him,  then  what  bursting  of 
barriers,  what  flood-gates  are  opened  in  his 
soul !  Then  it  is  feeble  to  call  his  emotion 
by  the  cold  name  of  gratitude  ! 

I  believe,  if  we  could  know,  we  should  dis- 
cover that  some  of  the  deepest,  strongest  loves 
between  men  had  their  fountain-head  in  some 
great  forgiveness.  Could  you  call  the  love 
of  the  forgiven  one  a  payment  for  forgive- 
ness  received  ?     Or   could    you  think   of  the 

[84] 


THE    MUTUALITY    OF    FORGIVENESS 

forgiveness    of    the    forglver    as    pay    for    the 
love  ? 

No !  Not  for  one  moment  !  You  feel  in- 
stinctively, you  know  in  your  soul,  that  the 
love  is  something  too  big,  too  noble  for  any 
such  debasing  measure.  In  it  you  recognize 
at  once  the  evidence  and  the  result  of  forgive- 
ness. Because  the  forgiven  loves  much,  he  is 
able  to  forget  the  humiliation  of  the  forgiveness, 
and  look  above  and  beyond  it.  In  a  cleansed 
soul  he  is  able  to  receive  all  the  freedom,  the 
joy,  the  blessing  of  the  forgiveness. 

To  be  much  forgiven  is  something  that 
depends  upon,  and  lies  within  one*s  own  soul. 
He  is  much  forgiven  who  is  willing  to  be  for- 
given because  love  has  made  him  willing. 

Is  not  something  like  this,  however  imper- 
fectly it  may  have  been  sketched,  at  least  an 
outline  of  the  psychology  of  the  forgiveness  of 
man  by  man  ?  And  is  the  forgiveness  of  God, 
when  He  forgives  men,  and  men  receive  His 
forgiveness  —  is  it  anything  different? 

The  truth  is,  we  shall  never  understand  the 
forgiveness  of  God  until  we  confess  that  be- 

[85] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

tween  our  souls  and  God  there  is  a  bond  of 
nature. 

Let  us  believe  Jesus  when  He  bids  us  call 
God  "  Our  Father ! "  when  by  His  uttered 
word,  yea,  even  more  by  the  Word  made  flesh, 
by  the  message  of  His  very  self  and  the  true 
humanity  of  the  very  Son  of  God,  He  declares 
us  His  brethren  and  God's  children.  The 
laws  of  forgiveness  are  not  the  legal  enactments 
of  a  strange  king  sitting  on  his  throne  in  a 
distant  heaven.  They  are  the  natural  laws,  the 
psychology,  of  the  Father  and  His  children. 
God's  forgiveness  is  higher,  infinitely  more 
splendid  and  blessed  than  any  forgiveness  be- 
tween man  and  man  can  be  :  it  comes  with  a 
compelling  graciousness  hopelessly  beyond  our 
feeble  powers. 

And  yet  it  is  true  of  the  forgiveness  of 
God,  as  it  is  true  of  forgiveness  between  men, 
that  there  is  in  it  an  element  of  mutuality. 
Even  God's  forgiveness  cannot  be  consum- 
mated until  this  mutuality  is  recognized.  By 
no  arbitrary  rule,  but  by  the  nature  of  things, 
because  of  your  nature  and  of  God's,  His  for- 

[86] 


THE    MUTUALITY    OF    FORGIVENESS 

giveness  cannot  lay  hold  of  you  until  you  are 
willing  to  lay  hold  of  it.  Your  soul  must  be 
open  before  even  God's  forgiveness  can  come  in. 
Something  like  this  would  appear  to  be  the 
teaching  of  the  Lord's  Prayer. 

''  Forgive  us  our  debts,  as  we  forgive  our 
debtors  "  ;  and  of  Jesus'  comment  upon  that 
petition  :  "  For  if  ye  forgive  men  their  tres- 
passes your  heavenly  Father  will  also  forgive 
you.  But  if  ye  forgive  not  men  their  tres- 
passes, neither  will  your  Father  forgive  your 
trespasses." 

The  forgiving  heart  is  able  to  receive  for- 
giveness from  God.  The  unforgiving  soul  is 
closed  even  against  the  Divine  forgiveness. 

The  woman  who  was  a  sinner  was  much 
forgiven  because  she  loved  much.  Yes  !  Be- 
cause, when  by  confession  she  had  broken  the 
barriers  between  her  soul  and  her  Saviour  His 
mighty  love  melted  them  all  away  and  set 
her  soul  on  fire  with  a  love  which  cleansed 
and  cleared  a  great,  wide  road  by  which  the 
splendor  of  the  mercy  of  the  Lord  could 
come  in. 

[87] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Simon  and  his  tribe  of  Simonites,  with  their 
self-satisfactions,  their  conventional  moralities, 
their  incapability  of  anything  more  than  a 
little  love,  can  receive  only  driblets  of  forgive- 
ness. Their  dull,  decorous  fences  keep  out 
all  save  the  spray  that  will  dash  over  from  the 
towering  waves  of  the  Divine  forgiveness. 
They  love  little,  and  are  therefore  little  for- 
given, not  because  God  is  not  a  great  forgiver 
but  because  they  are  poor  receivers,  unrespon- 
sive to  the  Divine  largeness. 

Simon  was  a  good  man,  with  a  highly  re- 
spectable respect  for  God.  He  had  acquired 
a  mild  admiration  of  Jesus.  It  would  almost 
seem  that  he  cherished  a  good-natured  rather 
patronizing  affection  for  this  good  young  man 
from  Galilee.  He  really  wanted  His  company 
at  dinner,  and  he  was  beginning  to  beHeve  that 
Jesus  might  actually  prove  to  be  a  prophet. 
We  can  imagine  that  Simon  felt  a  shock  of 
honest  disappointment  when  he  saw  Jesus  will- 
ingly receiving  the  adoration  of  the  woman 
whom  he  knew  for  a  sinner  in  that  town.  To 
himself  he  says,  "  It  is  a  pity  !     After  all,  the 

[88] 


THE    MUTUALITY    OF    FORGIVENESS 

Galilean  is  no  prophet  or  He  would  have 
known  !  " 

In  truth,  neither  God,  nor  God's  Christ,  nor 
his  own  brother  men  were  crowning  realities 
to  Simon.  Society  and  its  rules  were  real ; 
business  was  real ;  his  religion  was  real ;  its 
church-going,  its  ceremonial,  its  doctrines,  —  all 
the  outside  things  of  religion,  —  were  part  of 
Simon's  very  existence.  In  this  as  in  all  else 
he  lived  upon  the  surface.  Between  him  and 
actual  life ;  between  him  and  his  heavenly 
Father  and  his  sins  against  his  Father ;  yes, 
between  Simon  and  his  own  inmost  soul  with 
its  crying  needs  and  its  towering  possibilities, 
—  a  crust  of  commonplace,  conventional  earth- 
liness  had  grown,  and  he  lived  on  the  pitiful 
and  perilous  surface  of  it. 

I  wonder,  was  the  crust  cracked  by  what 
happened  on  that  memorable  day  when  he 
asked  Jesus  to  dine  with  him  ;  when  the  Lord 
made  such  a  searching  object-lesson  for  Simon 
of  that  poor  outcast  woman  whose  sins  which 
were  many  had  been  forgiven,  whose  passion- 
ate   adoration    of  her    Saviour    witnessed    the 

[89] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

depths  underneath  her  broken  and  contrite, 
vet  mightily  rejoicing  soul  ?  Or  did  Simon, 
with  the  others  who  sat  at  meat  with  him 
begin  scornfully  to  say,  '*  Who  is  this  that 
forgiveth   sins  also  ?  " 

We  do  not  know.  Simon  and  the  forgiven 
sinner  appear  before  us  but  for  a  moment,  and 
then  they  fade  from  sight.  For  one  enlighten- 
ing moment  they  appear  to  tell  us  that  God 
our  Father,  and  Christ  His  Son,  our  Brother, 
do  indeed  bring  near  us  the  power  and  blessing 
of  a  great  salvation.  And  they  tell  us  that 
even  God  cannot  give  what  we  will  not  take  ! 
The  power,  the  jov,  the  blessing  of  God's 
forgiveness  and  Christ's  salvation  waits  our 
welcoming. 

"  Behold,"  says  Jesus,  "  I  stand  at  the  door 
and  knock.  If  any  man  hear  my  voice  and 
open  the  door,  I  will  come  in  to  him  and  sup 
with  him  and  he  with  me." 


[90] 


THE   DREADFUL    PRAYER 


And  behold,  the  whole  city  came  out  to  meet 
Jesus  :  and  when  they  saw  him,  they  besought 
Him  that  He  would  depart  out  of  their  coasts. 

Matthew  viii.  34. 


THE    DREADFUL   PRAYER 

JESUS  had  done  one  of  His  mightiest  works. 
He  had  cast  out  a  legion  of  devils  from  the 
demoniac  of  Gadara,  who  had  his  dwelling  in 
the  tombs. 

Incidental  to  that  great  salvation  a  herd  of 
two  thousand  swine  had  been  destroyed. 

There  are  modern  communities  which  might 
sympathize  with  the  Gadarenes  when  they  be- 
sought Jesus  that  he  would  depart  out  of  their 
coasts. 

The  "  city "  was  little  more  than  a  good- 
sized  village.  Apparently  the  inhabitants  held 
a  sort  of  town  meeting.  We  can  see  them 
discussing  the  situation  with  excited  talk  and 
many  gestures.  Doubtless  there  was  at  first 
some  difference  of  opinion.  It  was  impos- 
sible to  behold  that  erstwhile  dangerous  de- 
moniac now  sitting  quietly,  clothed  and  in  his 
right  mind,  without  feeling  that  his  Saviour 
had  conferred  a  great  benefit  upon  the  com- 

[93] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

munity.  But  the  swine  !  Two  thousand  of 
them  !  all  that  property  sacrificed  for  the  sake 
of  one  poor  crazy  man's  soul ! 

The  perished  swine  decided  the  question. 
Jesus  was  a  dangerous  character  ;  he  must  go. 

The  narrative  implies  that  they  went  to 
meet  Jesus  in  formal  deputation,  as  a  sort  of 
committee  of  the  whole,  and  respectfully  but 
decidedly  besought  Him  that  He  would  de- 
part out  of  their  coasts. 

A  moment's  reflection  will  show  that  we 
have  here  an  instance  of  prevailing  prayer. 

The  beseeching  of  the  Gadarenes  was  not 
only  genuine,  but  it  fulfilled  a  requirement  of 
Jesus  which  often  perplexes  sincere  Christians 
and  sometimes  excites  the  scorn  of  unbelievers. 
The  Gadarenes  prayed,  expecting  to  receive 
what  they  asked.  In  no  hesitating  or  doubt- 
ing spirit  did  they  come  to  Jesus,  trying  no 
experiment,  but  demanding  that  which  they 
firmly  believed  He  must  grant. 

Perhaps  a  little  common  sense  might  help 
us  to  understand  Jesus.  God  is  not  the  only 
person  to  whom  we  prav.     We  offer  prayers 

[94] 


THE    DREADFUL    PRAYER 

to  each  other,  we  ask  people  to  do  things  for 
us.  Do  we  ask  what  we  do  not  expect  will 
be  granted  ?  Never,  if  we  can  avoid  it.  A 
request  —  or  a  prayer  —  which  seems  to  ques- 
tion the  willingness  or  ability  of  the  person 
prayed  to,  compromises  itself  in  its  very  utter- 
ance. In  prayer,  expectation  is  the  mark  of 
respect ;  it  is  the  test  of  sincerity  ;  it  is  also 
the  way  to  success.  The  attitude  of  the  citi- 
zens of  Gadara,  their  position  of  respectful  but 
firmly  expectant  demand  is  the  winning  stand- 
point ;  not  simply  because  of  its  forcefulness, 
but  because  it  gives  guarantee  of  honesty  and 
of  the  reality  of  need. 

And  if  this  is  true  of  our  prayers  to  our 
fellow-men,  is  it  less  true  of  our  prayers  to 
our  Heavenly  Father  ^ 

The  Gadarenes  teach  us  a  lesson.  Their 
beseeching  of  Jesus  carried  with  it  that  con- 
fident note  which  must  always  be  heard  in  any 
true  prayer.  It  is  the  more  worth  our  while 
to  mark  this  because  the  prayer  of  the  Gada- 
renes was  a  dreadful  prayer,  and  yet  it  was 
answered  at  once. 

[95] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

They  besought  Jesus  that  He  would  depart 
out  of  their  coasts.  Without  delay,  without 
remonstrance  he  granted  their  petition.  He 
entered  a  ship  and  returned  to  His  own  city. 

Do  we  ever  pray  the  prayer  of  the  Gada- 
renes  ?  Do  we  ever  ask  Jesus  to  depart  from 
us  ? 

No.  Not  in  the  open  manner  in  which  the 
Gadarenes  besought  Him.  We  have  informa- 
tion concerning  Jesus  which  was  hidden  from 
those  half-heathen  men  of  the  long  ago ;  we 
know  that  which  makes  us  unwilling  to  com- 
mit ourselves  openly  as  they  did. 

And  yet  in  the  recesses  of  our  souls  do  we 
not  sometimes  pray  their  prayer  ?  And  for 
reasons  not  very  unHke  those  of  the  men  of 
Gadara.  They  were  afraid  of  Jesus,  and  his 
work  of  salvation  interfered  with  their  business. 

In  us  too,  the  awe  of  Him  persists  in  spite 
of  the  lapse  of  centuries,  and  in  spite  of —  yes, 
increased  by  —  our  better  knowledge. 

We  have  learned  that  Jesus  came  to  reveal 
God  to  us  and  show  us  the  Father. 

We    may   not  be  —  probably  we  are  not  — 

[96] 


THE    DREADFUL    PRAYER 

theologians  ;  we  concern  ourselves  very  little 
with  the  philosophy  of  the  astounding  gospel 
of  God's  manifestation  of  Himself  through 
His  Christ. 

And  yet  the  facts  of  it  search  and  find  us 
in  our  inmost  spirit ;  and  when  Jesus  comes 
near  we  know  that  God  is  near ;  we  feel  our- 
selves in  the  Awful  Presence  of  the  Almighty  ! 

Nor  is  the  awe  lessened  because  we  know 
that  Jesus  is  our  human  Friend  and  Brother. 
Nay,  it  is  deepened ;  for  a  friend,  a  brother 
is  a  sharer  of  one's  life. 

The  sympathy  of  Jesus  brings  Him  into  a 
solemn  nearness  ;  it  leaves  not  a  nook  or  corner 
of  our  souls  or  our  daily  doing  from  which  we 
can  safely  shut  Him  out.  We  know  that  He 
will  not,  and  cannot  take  the  place  of  a  mere 
acquaintance  to  whom  we  might  say : 

"  To-morrow,  when  I  have  more  time,  I  '11 
be  glad  to  see  you,  but  to-day  I  'm  busy." 

Oh,  no  !  The  very  nature  of  the  relation 
of  Christ  to  us  is  that  of  a  personal  intimacy 
nearer  than  the  nearest  earthly  friend ;  a  near- 
ness from  which  nothing  can  be  hidden.  The 
7  [  97  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

manner  of  the  salvation  with  which  He  saves 
us  makes  us  no  more  our  own,  and  gives  Him 
the  place  of  one  who  leads,  whom  we  must 
follow. 

The  love  of  Jesus,  like  all  great  love,  and 
most  greatly  of  all  love,  has  in  it  an  element  of 
awfulness  which  is  sure  to  oppress  the  spirit 
of  one  who  does  not  wholly  yield  to  it.  The 
very  blessedness  of  the  demand  which  it  makes 
upon  us  may  easily  stir  up  revolt. 

Perhaps  in  some  enlightening  moment  the 
spirit  ot  Jesus  has  come  to  you  revealing  His 
great  salvation,  making  you  feel  the  difference 
between  life  as  you  are  living  it  and  the  life 
you  might  live  if  you  would  but  let  your  Great 
Friend  take  His  rightful  place.  You  are 
mightily  drawn  toward  Him.  You  long  for 
the  peace  and  the  power  which  you  know  His 
indwelling  can  give ;  you  know  that  you  ought 
to  open  your  heart  and  let  Him  take  posses- 
sion. And  then  the  very  splendor  of  His 
love  frightens  you ;  its  high  demand  angers 
you.  And  you  do  just  what  the  Gadarenes 
did ;  you  cry  out  in  your  secret  soul : 

['98] 


THE    DREADFUL    PRAYER 

"Depart  out  of  my  coasts;  leave  me  alone; 
let  me  be  as  I  was  before  you  visited  me !  " 

And  the  Lord  answers  your  prayer  as 
promptly  as  he  answered  that  which  came 
from  the  shores  of  Galilee ;  and  by  Sunday 
afternoon  or  by  Monday  morning  you  are 
back  in  the  old  rut,  —  going  your  own  way, 
looking  after  your  herds  of  earthly  swine ; 
missing  and  perhaps  grieving  over  those 
drowned  in  the  sea ;  vexed  because  you  have 
been  troubled  by  the  Divine  Presence,  yet 
relieved,  since  now  you  feel  yourself  free  from 
the  consciousness  of  that  presence  and  the 
agitating  desire  for  it. 

There  are  varied  ways  of  praying  the  fatal 
prayer. 

Perhaps  you  are  a  member  of  Christ's 
church.  There  was  a  time  when  the  Presence 
of  Jesus  was  welcome  ;  but  now,  things  are 
different.  The  demands  of  the  world  have 
become  heavy.  There  Is  little  time  for 
prayer,  and  little  Inclination  for  the  detach- 
ment of  spirit  which  prayer  requires ;  you  are 
preoccupied,  you  are  very  busy,  your  leisure 
•      [  99  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

time,  perhaps  even  your  Sabbaths,  must  be 
reserved   for  rest  and  amusement. 

There  are  moments  when  conscience  troubles 
you.  There  is  occasionally  a  bad  half-hour 
with  the  spiritual  situation.  You  admit  that 
you  have  grown  careless ;  yet  the  carelessness 
does  not  after  all  seem  so  very  serious  a  matter. 
It  appears  simply  as  a  laxness  in  not  very 
essential  religious  observances.  You  excuse  it 
to  yourself  and  to  others,  you  justify  yourself 
and  rather  easily  make  out  a  very  fair  case  in 
your  own  favor. 

You  can  make  out  a  fair  case  and  find  plaus- 
ible excuse  for  your  religious  neglects  because 
of  a  singular  reason.  And  that  is,  you  are  not 
conscious  of  any  personal  consideration  at  all. 
Your  laxness,  or  carelessness,  or  more  broad 
and  liberal  practice  —  whatever  you  choose  to 
call  it  —  appears  simply  as  a  neglect  of  certain 
rites  or  observances,  good  certainly,  perhaps 
necessary  for  some  people,  but  not  binding 
upon  you  in  your  circumstances.  It  does  not 
appear  to  you  as  in  any  way  a  question  between 
your  soul  and  the  spirit  of  Some  One  Else  !     In 

[  100  ] 


THE    DREADFUL    PRAYER 

truth,  you  have  lost  the  Presence  of  Jesus  ;  and 
you  are  scarcely  conscious  of  your  loss.  In  a 
formal  way  you  still  confess  yourself  one  of 
His  followers,  you  do  many  good  and  com- 
mendable things  that  are  in  accord  with  His 
teaching,  you  belong  to  His  party,  you  are  a 
member  of  His  church. 

But  He  Himself,  His  warm,  living  Pre- 
sence, which  once,  even  though  perhaps  only 
faintly,  you  surely  felt  —  that  has  gone! 

You  no  longer  feel  the  need  of  prayer, 
you  have  grown  into  an  apparently  prayer- 
less  habit. 

And  yet  the  truth  is,  your  whole  life  has 
gradually,  unconsciously  become  a  dreadful 
prayer.  Silently,  stealthily,  without  any  ag- 
gressive intention  but  as  it  were  by  default, 
your  life  has  become  a  prayer  to  Jesus  that  he 
would  depart  out  of  your  coasts.  And  the 
prayer  has  been  answered  ! 

This  sort  of  prayer  is  always  answered,  be- 
cause, sadly  enough,  it  is  always  real.  It  may 
not  be,  seldom  or  never  is  it  expressed  in 
words  ;  yet  it  is  a  believing  prayer,  a  demand 

[101] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

of  the  soul,  and  a  demand  that  expects  to  be 
complied  with. 

The  Lord  once  said  that,  "  The  children  of 
this  world  are  wiser  in  their  generation  than 
the  children  of  light :  "  and  the  effectiveness  of 
our  dreadful  prayers  illustrates  the  truth  of  his 
words. 

If  we  would  but  ask  for  Christ's  presence  as 
honestly  as  we  ask  that  He  shall  depart  out  of 
our  coasts,  if  we  would  ask  by  our  actions  and 
not  with  empty  words  only ;  when  we  really 
want  Him  ;  when  our  prayer  for  His  Presence 
is  truly  part  of  our  life  so  that  it  becomes  like 
the  other,  the  dreadful  prayer,  an  unconscious 
wish,  a  demand  that  will  not  take  denial  and 
expects  compliance,  —  then  we  shall  know  the 
strength  of  fellowship  with  Jesus  and  the 
blessedness  of  a  real  Christian  life. 

There  are  varied  views  of  the  nature  of  the 
Christian  life.  It  is  interpreted  in  terms  of 
the  observance  of  religious  rules,  or  the  ex- 
perience of  religious  emotions.  It  is  viewed  as 
an  attitude  of  the  intellect  toward  doctrine,  or 
of  the  ethical  sense  toward  conduct. 

[  102] 


THE    DREADFUL    PRAYER 

There  is  truth  in  all  these  ideals.  The  dis- 
cipline of  religious  rule,  the  power  of  religious 
emotion  have  both  their  place  within  the  Chris- 
tian life.  The  Life  is  based  upon  truth  which 
must  take  human  shape  in  doctrine,  and  the 
Christian  Life  is  in  itself  the  highest  morality. 

But  the  real  thing  goes  far  deeper  than  any 
of  these  partial  manifestations.  The  real 
Christian  life  is  the  life  of  God  our  Father 
given  us  through  Christ  His  Son  ;  born  in  us 
by  the  mighty  Spirit  of  Jesus ;  living  by  His 
Presence  ;  growing  through  companionship  with 
Him. 

The  real  Christian  life  does  not  make  a  man 
less  human ;  nay,  it  makes  him  more  truly 
human  and  fit  for  human  duties ;  stronger, 
more  faithful,  more  courageous  for  all  holy 
living  and  righteous  doing.  It  does  not  re- 
quire us  to  separate  ourselves  from  our 
fellow-men.  It  brings  us  into  nearest  fellowship 
with  all  mankind.  It  is  a  life  in  this  world  — 
but  not  a  life  of  this  world. 

The  presence  of  Jesus  is  indeed  awful  when 
we  come  face  to  face  with  Him  from  the  out- 

[  103  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

side.  We  cannot  forget  that  He  is  the  same 
mighty  One  who  could  cast  out  devils  or 
still  the  stormy  winds  and  waves  with  a  word. 
Our  sinfulness  shrinks  from  His  holiness ; 
His  righteousness  makes  our  worldliness  fret 
and  whimper ;  His  love,  with  its  intimate 
searching  of  our  inmost  thought  and  doing, 
is  something  before  whose  nearness  and  whose 
high  demand  our  souls  falter.  And  yet  we 
need  Jesus!  Above  all  else  we  need  Him! 
We  cannot  live  the  life  we  were  made  for, 
the  life  of  God's  true  children,  without  the 
saving  power  and  inspiring  presence  of  Jesus. 

And  though  that  presence  may  seem  awful 
when  viewed  from  without,  the  awfulness  melts 
into  blessedness  when  we  honestly  receive  Him 
and  come  into  the  holy  of  holies  of  His  friend- 
ship. Then  comes  the  peace  that  passeth 
understanding. 

It  is  true;  the  wretched,  the  dreadful  prayer, 
"  Depart  out  of  our  coasts  !  "  is  heard  and  an- 
swered. Jesus  never  stays  where  He  is  not 
wanted.  But  blessed  be  His  Holy  Name ! 
He   is    better    to    us    than    our  deserts.     He 

[  104  ] 


THE    DREADFUL    PRAYER 

goes  ;  yet  never  so  far  away  that  we  cannot 
call  Him  back,  if  we  call  honestly  I  —  as  hon- 
estly as  when  we  asked  Him  to  depart. 

We  do  not  hear  that  Jesus  ever  returned  in 
person  to  the  country  of  the  Gadarenes :  but 
he  had  pity  on  their  ignorance  and  made  the 
spiritual  finding  of  Himself  possible  for  them 
whenever  they  should  repent. 

Nothing  in  the  Gospel  is  more  touching 
than  the  prayer  of  the  healed  demoniac. 

He  had  no  eyes  or  heart  for  any  but  his 
Saviour ;  and  when  his  fellow-countrymen  cast 
Jesus  out,  he  took  it  as  though  they  had  cast 
him  out  also.  Home  and  friends  were  hence- 
forth as  nothing  to  him.  He  begged  only 
that  he  might  stay  beside  Jesus. 

Surely  this  was  an  honest  prayer.  Was  it 
answered  ? 

Yes,  but  with  a  better  blessing  than  that 
which  the  man  craved.  Jesus  made  him  His 
ambassador;  He  told  him, 

"  Go  home  to  thy  friends  and  tell  them  how 
great  things  the  Lord  hath  done  for  thee." 

The  man  obeyed.  He  went  his  way  and 
[  105  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

published  through  all  the  city  how  great 
things  Jesus  had   done  for  him. 

And  we  know  that,  in  thus  doing  Christ's 
will  he  gained  a  closer  intimacy,  a  nearer  pres- 
ence of  his  Lord  and  Master  than  even  bodily 
companionship  could  have  given.  This  man 
who  longed  only  to  be  with  Jesus,  henceforth 
held  the  great  fellowship  of  the  love  of  Christ 
for  men's  souls.  He  reopened  and  held  open 
for  his  Lord  that  door  which  the  Gadarenes 
had  tried  to  shut  in  the  face  of  their  Saviour. 

And  even  though  you  may  have  prayed 
their  dreadful  prayer,  though  you  may  have 
besought  Jesus  that  He  would  depart  out  of 
your  coasts,  His  heart  still  yearns  for  you. 
That  Cross  on  which  He  suffered  and  bore 
your  sin  —  yea,  even  the  sin  of  refusing  Him 
—  is  the  pledge  of  His  immortally  patient  love 
and  sleepless  willingness  to  hear  when  you 
call. 

But  oh  !  be  honest  with  Him  ! 


[io6] 


WOE    TO    THAT    MAN    BY   WHOM    THE 
OFFENCE   COMETH 


Woe  unto  the  world  because  of  offences !  for  it 
must  needs  be  that  offences  come  ;  but  woe  to 
that  man  by  whom  the  offence  cometh  ! 

Matthew  xviii.  7. 


WOE   TO    THAT    MAN    BY    WHOM  THE 
OFFENCE    COMETH 

The  Greek  word  translated  "  offence "  is 
"  skandalon."  It  has  been  transferred  into 
English  in  our  familiar  word  "  scandal." 

The  text  might  be  rendered  "  Woe  unto 
the  world  because  of  scandals."  But  such  a 
translation,  literal  and  racy  though  it  might 
be,  would  not  express  the  thought  of  Jesus. 

"  Scandal,"  in  our  use  of  the  word,  means 
something  disgraceful,  something  to  be  ashamed 
of;  and  often  it  means  nothing  more  than  a 
scandalous  rumor. 

The  meaning  of  Jesus  is  deeper  and  stronger. 
The  word  He  used  is  elsewhere  translated 
"a  stumbling-block."  Its  idea  is  that  of 
something  which  trips  one  up  in  the  dark  and 
gives  him  a  bad  fall.  There  is  no  single 
English  word  which  quite  represents  it.  The 
Revised  Version,  which  tries  to  be,  and  usually 
is,  very  exact,  renders  :  "  Woe  unto  the  world 

[  109  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

because  of  occasions  of  stumbling  " ;  and  this 
colorless  circumlocution  is  really  farther  from 
the  spirit  of  the  original  than  our  Old  Version 
with  its  more  vigorous  simplicity. 

Let  the  text  stand,  then,  just  as  our  Old 
Bible  gives  it ;  only  let  us  remember  that  the 
"  offences  "  are  offences  against  righteousness, 
against  truth,  against  honesty ;  offences  which 
trip  up  the  weak  and  make  them  sin  ;  offences 
against  brotherly  love,  against  the  spirit  of 
Jesus ;  and  then  let  us  re-read  our  text : 
"Woe  unto  the  world  because  of  offences !  for 
it  must  needs  be  that  offences  come;  but  woe 
to  that  man  by  whom  the  offence  cometh  !  ** 

Scattered  through  the  great  books  of  litera- 
ture are  sentences  which  give  us  pause  when 
we  come  to  them  in  our  reading.  Perhaps 
their  beauty  fills  us  with  admiration ;  or  they 
roll  in  upon  our  minds  the  impact  of  a  mighty 
truth ;  or  perhaps,  as  here  in  this  word  of 
Jesus,  they  make  our  hearts  stand  still  in  the 
clutch  of  some  dreadful  apprehension.  But 
this  text  is  literature  only  because  it  is  some- 
thing greater.     It  is   the  written  record  of  a 

[no] 


WOE    TO    THAT    MAN 

living,  spoken  word;  moreover,  it  is  prophecy 
in  the  widest  sense.  There  is  teaching  in  this 
word  of  Jesus ;  there  is  a  warning  message. 
There  is  also  prediction  which  has  been  so 
completely  and  so  progressively  fulfilled  in  the 
life  of  the  world,  that  we  cannot  but  shudder 
when  we  think  of  the  cumulative  woe  toward 
which  it  points  in  the  future. 

A  text  like  this  is  timely.  It  throws  light 
upon  the  nature  of  Jesus ;  it  turns  toward  us 
a  side  of  His  character  which  we  men  of  to- 
day have  not  been  entirely  ready  to  face. 

We  are  quite  willing  to  look  at  the  Gentle 
Jesus.  The  reality  of  His  sweet  humanity 
brings  Him  very  near  to  us.  And  yet  in 
this  nearness,  and  in  our  free  gaze  upon  the 
Man  of  Nazareth,  there  is  a  singular  peril. 

It  is  the  peril  which  comes  from  compari- 
sons. We  compare  His  knowledge  with  the 
sunburst  of  our  own  time ;  we  compare  His 
world,  so  contracted,  with  the  splendid  world 
in  which  we  live.  We  remember  His  humble 
birth.  His  poverty.  His  fishermen  disciples. 

Yes !    we  admire  Jesus ;   we   even    imagine 
[III] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

that  we  worship  His  saving  love  and  His 
beautiful  self-sacrifice ;  while  all  the  time, 
insensibly  it  may  be,  yet  really,  we  patronize 
the  Galilean  peasant,  the   Gentle  Jesus  ! 

But  the  truth  is,  our  mental  picture  of  the 
Gentle  Jesus  is  an  illusion.  None  of  the  men 
of  His  own  day  cherished  any  such  idea  of 
Him.  There  was  division  of  opinion  con- 
cerning Jesus ;  but  no  one  thought  of  Him 
as  a  weakling.  There  were  those  who  de- 
spised or  scorned  or  hated  Him.  But  even 
these  did  Him  the  homage  of  regarding  Him 
as  a  dangerous  character. 

The  High  Priests  who  prosecuted  Him, 
and  Pilate,  the  Roman  governor  who  crucified 
Him,  were  afraid  of  Jesus.  They  crucified 
Him  because  they  feared  Him.  The  Cross 
was   a  tribute  to  the  awe  which  He  inspired. 

Even  the  disciples  with  whom  He  was  so 
free,  to  whom  He  was  such  a  perfect  comrade ; 
even  the  men  and  women  whom  Jesus  healed 
and  helped  felt  in  His  very  love  and  gentle- 
ness, the  compelling  might  and  majesty  of  an 
awful   Presence. 

[112] 


WOE    TO    THAT    MAN 

The  sense  of  the  majesty  of  Jesus  arose, 
not  from  His  mighty  works  alone,  it  was 
even  more  deeply  felt  as  an  effect  of  His 
words. 

After  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  when  the 
congregation  broke  up  the  people  did  not 
begin  to  chatter  about  all  sorts  of  indifferent 
things.  They  went  away  saying  to  one  an- 
other in  hushed  and  astonished  tones,  "  He 
speaks  as  one  having  authority  !  ** 

One  day  in  Jerusalem  Jesus  was  talking  to 
the  throng  assembled  in  the  Temple.  The 
officers  of  the  Sanhedrin  were  sent  to  arrest 
Him.  They  returned  empty-handed,  with  an 
excuse  unprecedented  in  police  circles.  All 
they  could  say  for  themselves  was,  "  Never 
man  spake  like  this   Man  ! " 

Even  to-day  we  feel  the  majesty  of  the 
words  of  Jesus.  Our  Sunday-school  notions 
of  His  gentleness,  our  critical  ideas  of  His 
limitations  die  away  when  we  actually  listen  to 
Him. 

The  words  of  Jesus  are  becoming  portentous 
in  face  of  the  problems  of  our  modern  life. 
"  ["3] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Men  are  beginning  to  understand  that  His 
love  has  an  edge  sharp  against  violators  of 
His  law  of  Brotherhood;  we  are  beginning 
to  see  that  His  gentleness  is  the  forbearance 
and  the  patience  of  conscious  power ;  and  that 
the  humility  of  Jesus,  the  fact  that  He  was 
the  Friend  of  the  poor  and  the  Prophet  of  the 
People,  is  a  fact  big  with  serious  meaning. 

Our  text  would  have  its  own  solemnity, 
no  matter  who  might  have  spoken  it.  The 
woes  which  come  upon  the  world  because  of 
offences,  and  the  woe  which  visits  the  man 
who  makes  his  fellow-men  stumble  into  sin 
is  witnessed  by  every  page  of  history  and  by 
every  daily  newspaper.  But  this  saying  takes 
a  new  solemnity  and  a  deeper  awfulness  when 
we  remember  that  it  was  spoken  by  Christ, 
the  Judge  of  Mankind. 

But  notice  now  how  different  from  the 
fashion  of  human  reformers  and  popular 
prophets  is  this  word  of  Jesus  !  The  popular 
prophets  are  always  foretelling  a  ready-made 
heaven  on  earth  as  soon  as  their  reforms  are 
accepted.     They  promise  a  magical  cure  of  all 


WOE    TO    THAT    MAN 

evils  if  only  we  elect  them   to   office.     Jesus 
has  no  quack  medicines  to  offer. 

His  prophecy  is  not  only  penetrating  in  its 
exposure  of  evil,  it  is  divinely  large  in  its 
sweep  and  in  its  outlook.  He  blinks  no  facts. 
He  faces  human  nature  with  its  dreadful  twists 
and  its  wretched  selfishness,  not  only  as  it 
appeared  in  the  men  about  Him,  but  as  His 
clear  vision  beheld  that  same  human  nature 
through  the  weary  vista  of  coming  centuries. 

"  Woe  unto  the  world  because  of  offences  ! 
for  it  must  needs  he  that  offences  come.   ..." 

It  is  significant  that  this  saying  was  not 
wrung  from  Jesus  by  the  sight  of  what  was 
going  on  in  the  great  world  about  Him.  The 
offences  were  not  the  things  that  the  Herods, 
or  Pilate,  or  Annas,  or  Caiaphas  were  doing ; 
though  God  knows  they  might  easily  have 
furnished  examples  with  their  vile  intrigues, 
and  their  reckless  self-seekings,  and  their  cyni- 
cal disregard  of  each  other's  rights,  and  their 
cruel  tramplings  on  the  rights  and  welfare  of 
the  people.  No !  The  offences  were  nearer 
home,   within   the    family   circle    of  His   own 

[115] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

disciples.  The  large  wisdom  of  Jesus  saw 
how  temporary  was  the  power  of  the  at  pres- 
ent great  ones,  and  how  surely  that  power 
contained  within  itself  the  seed  of  its  own 
speedy  destruction.  He  saw  also  how  big 
with  consequences  to  the  world  was  the  living 
force  held  in  the  now  obscure  band  of  progeni- 
tors of  the  new  and  coming  order.  The  of- 
fences which  would  hurt,. must  come  from  their 
successors,  and  therefore  the  first  signs  of  these 
things  in  the  disciples  themselves  awakened 
the  anguish  of  Jesus. 

The  disciples  had  gotten  it  into  their  heads 
that  their  Master  was  none  other  than  the 
Messiah  of  Israel,  as  He  was  indeed ;  but  they 
were  drawing  their  own  conclusions.  They 
obstinately  spelled  Messiahship  in  terms  of 
earthly  kingship. 

Incidentally  this  shows  how  Jesus  impressed 
those  nearest  Him.  He  was  more  than  the 
gentle  Teacher  or  the  loving  Healer  ;  He  was 
not  Elias,  or  Jeremias  or  one  of  the  prophets, 
to  those  who  knew  Him  best;  but  He  was 
Christ  the  King.     They  felt  the  commanding 

[ii6] 


WOE    TO    THAT    MAN 

quality,  the  imperial  force,  that  was  in  the 
nature  of  Jesus.  Their  Master,  so  they  be- 
lieved, was  soon  about  to  set  up  His  kingdom 
and  reign  like  an  emperor  in  Jerusalem. 

"  And  what  is  going  to  be  in  it  for  us  ^  " 
thought  these  disciples.  Not  only  did  they 
let  ambitious  dreams  of  earthly  glories  possess 
them,  but  they  actually  began  to  dispute 
among  themselves  ;  they  even  came  to  Jesus 
demanding,  "  Who  is  the  greatest  in  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  ?  "  —  the  heaven-sent  kingdom 
on  earth.  Which  is  going  to  have  the  best 
place  ?     How  are  the  offices  to  be  distributed  ? 

All  the  greed  of  churchmen  and  of  politi- 
cians and  of  business  competitors ;  all  the 
clutching  after  personal  advancement  and  ad- 
vantage careless  of  consequences  to  others, 
which  has  cursed  the  world  from  that  day  to 
this  ;  all  the  evil  brood  of  offences  were  there 
in  the  germ,  in  the  breasts  of  those  good  men, 
those  disciples  of  Jesus  ! 

How  penetrating  the  vision  of  Jesus  !  At 
a  glance  He  sees  not  only  the  present  fault 
so  natural  to  these  enthusiastic  young  men,  but 

[117] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

He  sees  the  woe  that  in  after  time  shall  come 
upon  the  world  from  the  same  sort  of  selfish- 
ness let  loose. 

He  must  correct  the  fault,  now  in  the  bud, 
in  these  His  own  comrades.  And  the  gentle- 
ness of  quiet,  self-contained  force  is  seen  in 
His  correction. 

Jesus  called  a  little  child  unto  Him  and  set 
him  in  the  midst  of  them  and  said,  "  Verily  I 
say  unto  you.  Except  ye  be  converted,  and  be- 
come as  little  children,  ye  shall  not  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Whosoever  therefore 
shall  humble  himself  as  this  little  child,  the 
same  is  greatest  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

Then  the  great  love  of  the  Christ  for  the 
little  ones  began  to  swell  in  His  bosom,  and 
I  think  Jesus  put  His  arm  about  the  little 
boy  and  drew  him  closer  to  Himself,  while 
He  said,  "And  whoso  shall  receive  one  such 
little  child  in  my   name,  receiveth   me  !  " 

And  then,  as  He  thinks  of  those  who  are 
not  simply  children  in  years  but  in  character 
and  position  ;  of  the  little  ones,  unimportant, 
inconspicuous  in  the  sight  of  the  big  world ; 

[ii8] 


WOE    TO    THAT    MAN 

when  He  thinks  of  the  multitude  of  plain 
common  people  who  shall  call  Him  their 
Christ,  and  yet  shall  be  made  to  fall  into  sin 
by  the  stumbling-blocks  of  the  selfish  grasp- 
ings  of  men  prominent  in  church  or  state,  — 
then  the  wrath  of  love  arises  in  the  soul  of 
Jesus  and  He  exclaims,  "  But  whoso  shall  put 
a  stumbling-block  in  the  way  of  one  of  these 
little  ones  which  believe  in  me,  it  were  better 
for  him  that  a  great  millstone  were  hanged 
about  his  neck  and  that  he  were  drowned  in 
the  depths  of  the  sea ! " 

And  now,  with  that  far  look,  that  vision 
piercing  the  future  so  characteristic  of  Jesus, 
He  beholds  how  through  ages  to  come  His 
righteousness  shall  be  corrupted  by  those  who 
stand  in  high  places  in  His  church  so  that 
they  may  grasp  higher  places ;  and  how  His 
truth  shall  be  denied  by  men  who  profess 
faith  in  Him,  because  Christ's  truth  crosses 
their  selfish  desires  or  their  vain  conceits ;  and 
how  men  who  call  themselves  Christians  shall 
bring  contempt  upon  the  name  they  bear  be- 
cause, reckless  of  justice  or  righteousness,  they 

Li'9] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

ride  rough-shod  toward  what  they  call  "  suc- 
cess "  ;  and  there  is  wrung  from  the  soul  of 
Jesus  the  dreadful  sentence,  "  Woe  unto  the 
world  because  of  offences :  for  it  must  needs 
be  that  offences  come." 

Do  we  catch  the  true  tone  of  this  awful 
word  of  Jesus  ? 

If  you  will  think  of  it  and  remember  how 
it  came  to  be  spoken,  I  believe  you  will  see 
that  it  does  not  denounce  woe  against  the 
world  for  the  world's  sins ;  but  it  prophesies 
woe  to  the  world,  and  laments  the  sorrows 
which  must  come  upon  the  world  because  of 
the  sins  of  Christians. 

The  imperial  nature  of  the  Christhood  of 
Jesus  appears  in  this  saying.  He  claims  the 
world  for  His  own.  He  claims  the  world  in 
the  mighty  empire  of  His  kingly  love,  and 
His  great  heart  bleeds  when  He  thinks  of 
this  collective  humanity.  His  own  world.  His 
dear  men  and  women  and  children.  His  little 
ones  who  must  suffer  by  the  selfish  sins  of 
those  who  profess   His   name ! 

The   most   dreadful    things    ever    said   were 

[120] 


WOE    TO    THAT    MAN 

spoken  by  Jesus ;  and  I  think  He  never  said 
anything  more  fearful  than  this. 

We  think  of  the  far-sightedness  of  Jesus, 
of  the  prophecy  of  His  saying  as  proved  by 
centuries  of  history. 

But  reflect  now,  think  also  of  the  magnifi- 
cent faith  of  Jesus  in  His  own  Christhood ! 
Think  of  the  divine  patience  of  Jesus  and 
of  His  sublime  confidence  of  final  triumph, 
yea,  even  in  spite  of  the  corruptions  His  Gos- 
pel must  suffer  by  the  sins  of  its  professed 
friends ! 

The  world  must  suffer,  but  the  world  shall 
be  saved ;  for  the  woe  falls  finally  in  its  fatal 
consequences,  not  upon  the  world,  but  upon 
that  man  by  whom  the  offence  cometh. 

And  this  condenses  the  awfulness  of  the 
word  of  Jesus.  It  makes  the  weight  of  it 
personal.  "  Woe  to  that  man  by  whom  the 
offence  cometh  !  " 

Woe  to  the  minister  of  Christ  who  preaches 
to  please  men  and  make  himself  popular ! 
Woe  to  him  if  he  uses  his  office  for  his  own 
comfort,  and  lives  so  that  men  have  an  amused 

[121] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

contempt  for  him,  and  because  of  him  despise 
Christ^s  church ! 

Woe  to  the  rich  Christian  who  sets  his 
business  interests  above  the  law  of  the  land, 
and  above  that  law  of  plain  righteousness 
taught  by  the  Master  whose  name  he  bears  ! 

Woe  to  the  Christian,  rich  or  poor,  who 
uses  his  church  membership  as  an  asset  in  his 
selfish  affairs  ! 

Woe  to  the  church  member  whose  disloyalty 
to  his  sacred  obligations  makes  plain  people 
imagine  that  Christ's  yoke  means  nothing  ! 

Woe  to  us  all,  if  we  dim  the  light  of  Christ- 
likeness  which  the  Lord  our  Master,  who  is 
to  be  our  Judge,  has  given  us  in  sacred  trust 
for  the  salvation  and  the  blessing  of  our  fellow- 
men  ! 

Let  us  remember  that  this  final,  this  per- 
sonal woe,  like  the  woe  to  the  world,  is  not 
vindictive ;  it  is  not  sentence  of  punishment : 
it  is  prophecy  of  consequences. 

If  offences  have  come  through  us,  then  as 
surely  as  night  and  darkness  follow  the  with- 
drawal  of  the   daylight   sun,   so    certainly  we 

[   122] 


WOE    TO    THAT    MAN 

shall  suffer.  Perhaps  we  shall  suffer  here,  in 
this  life ;  perhaps  in  the  life  to  come.  But 
whenever,  however  our  eyes  shall  be  opened 
and  we  see  the  harm  done  by  our  selfish  and 
dishonest  use  of  God's  grace  and  Christ's 
name,  when  we  see  how  we  have  caused  the 
little  ones  to  stumble,  then  we  shall  wish  we 
had  rather  cut  off  the  hand  or  foot  that  walked 
in  wilful  self-seeking,  we  shall  wish  we  had 
plucked  out  the  eye  that  looked  only  to  our 
own  interest  while  our  recklessness  brought 
sin  upon  our  brother. 

The  day  will  come  when  we  shall  see  what 
the  littleness  and  narrowness  of  selfhood  makes 
it  hard  to  see  now;  and  we  shall  see  that  there 
are  seeming  gains  which  are  real  losses,  and  a 
saving  of  life  that  is  the  losing  of  life,  and  a 
losing  of  self  which  is  the  gain  of  all  things. 

The  Gospel  of  Jesus  is  a  gospel  of  Divine 
love  ;  and  therefore  it  is  a  gospel  of  judgment. 
Out  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ's  Brotherhood 
with  us  comes  the  doctrine  of  our  brotherhood 
with  each  other.  We  cannot  live  apart  from 
our  fellow-men,  regardless  of  the  effect  of  our 

[  123] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

lives  upon  their  lives.  Out  of  our  brother- 
hood with  Christ  and  with  His  world  comes 
a  possibility  of  consequences  which  ought  to 
make  us  humble  ourselves  in  the  dust,  while 
we  implore  our  Father  for  help  to  see  clearly 
and  act  truly. 


[  124] 


THE   MAN   WHO    KEPT   HIS   LIFE 


And  the  lord  commended  the  unjust  steward, 
because  he  had  done  wisely  :  for  the  children  of 
this  world  are  in  their  generation  wiser  than  the 
children  of  light.  — Luke  xvi.  8. 


THE   MAN   WHO    KEPT    HIS   LIFE 

\Vhat  is  our  idea  of  Jesus  ?  It  is  possible  to 
think  of  Him  with  a  reverence  which  shuts  the 
eyes  to  all  beside  the  sacredness  of  His  Di- 
vinity so  that  we  forget  that  He  was  really 
human. 

It  is  also  possible  to  forget  His  Divinity 
and  to  view  Him  in  a  belittling  way  as  the 
Galilean  peasant,  beautiful  in  His  simplicity 
and  ignorance  of  the  ways  of  the  world. 

But  we  shall  never  understand  Jesus  until, 
distinct  from  the  vision  of  His  Divinity  we 
realize  the  largeness  of  His  Humanity. 

Simply  as  a  man,  Jesus  was  a  great  man. 
He  possessed  the  keen  and  accurate  perception 
of  human  nature  both  in  its  lower  and  its 
upper  strata,  and  the  swift,  the  easy  grasp  of 
the  true  inwardness  of  affairs,  social,  political, 
commercial,  and  religious  which  belongs  only 
to  the  few  who  are  rightly  called  great. 

[  127  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

It  is  true,  Jesus  drew  the  lowly,  the  dis- 
tressed, the  nameless  masses  to  Himself  in 
touching  confidence  and  affection.  If  you  will 
but  think  of  it,  that  is  something  the  greatest 
men  have  generally  done.  But,  as  we  can  see 
from  the  brief  and  fragmentary  records  of  His 
life.  He  also  compelled  the  respect,  yea,  even 
the  awe,  of  men  of  high  degree.  Some  of  these 
men,  leaders  in  church  and  state,  began  by 
despising  Him.  Before  the  end  came  they 
had  learned  to  fear  Him.  They  feared  Him 
even  after  they  had  crucified  Him. 

In  a  high  and  true  sense  we  have  the  right 
to  say  that  Jesus  was  a  Man  of  the  World. 

The  human  world,  with  its  strength  and  its 
weakness,  its  virtues  and  its  vices,  its  craft  and 
its  littleness  was  an  open  book  to  Him  ;  and 
He  translated  the  vernacular  of  this  most  puz- 
zling and  difficult  volume  with  a  skill  so  facile, 
and  in  a  way  so  broad  and  vivid  that  He  often 
surprises  and  sometimes  perplexes  us. 

The  Parable  of  the  Unjust  Steward,  for  ex- 
ample, is  not  of  the  sort  that  a  simple-minded 
peasant  could  conceive  nor  a  dainty  religionist 

[128] 


THE    MAN    WHO    KEPT    HIS    LIFE 

dare  to  use.  It  is  in  itself  a  difficult  parable ; 
but  specially  difficult  because  Jesus  is  the  au- 
thor of  it. 

We  are  startled  when  we  find  Him  using  an 
incident  of  most  consummate  worldliness,  a 
tale  of  what,  in  the  slang  of  our  day,  we  should 
call  "  graft,"  —  and  most  complicated  graft  at 
that,  —  to  enforce  high  and  spiritual  truth. 
The  parable  begins  to  become  intelligible  only 
when  we  consent  to  think  of  it  as  the  utterance 
of  a  man  familiar  with  the  ways  of  the  world, 
—  a  man  of  such  assured  position  and  admitted 
knowledge  that  men  must  listen  to  him  with  re- 
spect, and  of  such  acknowledged  loftiness  of 
character  that  none  shall  dare  misconstrue  his 
handling  of  his  illustration. 

•As  to  the  principal  character  in  the  story,  we 
must  not  imagine  that  the  Unjust  Steward  was 
any  mere  underling.  The  measures  of  oil  and 
of  wheat  in  which  he  dealt  when  translated  into 
terms  of  gallons  and  bushels,  are  at  once  seen  to 
be  too  large  for  anything  less  than  big,  whole- 
sale transactions. 

Moreover,  we  know  what  manner  of  officials 

9  [129] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

were  the  stewards  of  the  princes  of  that  day. 
They  were  the  trusted  and  powerful  managers 
of  great  estates,  and  men  of  high  importance  in 
the  financial  world. 

The  accusation  against  this  Steward  was  not 
actual  dishonesty.  It  was  "  wastefulness ^  The 
word  is  carefully  chosen,  and  it  is  a  note  of 
character. 

A  man  who  is  wasteful  and  extravagant  in 
the  management  of  his  business  affairs  is  almost 
sure  to  be  extravagant  and  luxurious  in  his 
personal  habits.  And  precisely  this  is  the 
character  we  see  mirrored  in  the  Steward's  own 
words. 

When  his  resignation  is  demanded,  as  he 
faces  the  awkward  situation  he  says,  "  What 
shall  I  do  ?  for  my  lord  taketh  away  from  me 
the  stewardship.  I  cannot  dig :  to  beg  I  am 
ashamed  !  " 

He  has  lost  the  manly  hardiness  needful  for 
honest  toil.  He  might  beg  loans  from  his 
lord's  rich  customers  who  have  profited  by  his 
extravagance ;  but  this  would  be  too  precarious 
—  and  too  humiliating. 

[  130] 


THE    MAN    WHO    KEPT    HIS    LIFE 

He  has  grown  into  the  habits  of  a  soft  and 
pleasant  life ;  and,  true  Child  of  this  World 
that  he  is,  this  easy,  luxurious  worldliness  is 
his  all  in  all,  and  too  precious  by  far  to  lose. 

The  Child  of  the  World  must  keep  his  life; 
and  no  nice  scruples  can  for  one  moment  be 
permitted  to  stand  in  the  way. 

And  he  is  shrewd,  he  is  resourceful,  this 
Child  of  the  World! 

With  our  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  busi- 
ness methods  of  that  ancient  time,  it  is  not 
easy  to  understand  the  details  of  the  transac- 
tion by  which  the  Unjust  Steward  put  his 
lord's  debtors  under  personal  obligation  to 
himself  The  deal  was  evidently  fraudulent, 
and  apparently  one  of  those  cunning  frauds 
which  the  law  cannot  easily  reach.  It  has 
been  conjectured  that  the  oil  and  wheat  owed 
to  the  lord  of  the  manor  were  not  paid  in  kind, 
but  that  they  represented  amounts  of  produce 
purchased  from  the  estate  by  merchants  who 
gave  their  notes  in  payment ;  and  that  these 
notes  were  the  "  bills  '*  which  the  crafty  Stew- 
ard invited  them  to  scale  down. 

[131] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

But  the  main  point  of  the  story  is  clear. 
The  Unjust  Steward  made  these  wealthy  debtors 
parties  to  a  fraud  in  such  a  way  that  thereafter 
he  could  compel  them  to  receive  him  into 
their  houses  and  provide  for  him  in  the  style 
to  which  he  was  accustomed. 

He  kept  his  life,  that  worldly  life  of  sensual 
ease  which  to  him  was  alone  real  living. 

"  And  his  lord  commended  the  Unjust 
Steward  because  he  had  done  wisely." 

There  are  various  interpretations  of  this  dif- 
ficult parable,  but  we  may  let  them  rest  while 
we  try  to  grasp  one  single  lesson  which  surely 
is  taught  in  this  peculiar  utterance  of  Jesus. 

When  trouble  came  and  disaster  threatened, 
the  Child  of  this  World  did  not  give  up.  Not 
for  a  moment  did  he  allow  doubt  to  weaken, 
or  misfortune  to  unman  him.  He  set  his  wits 
at  work.  He  resolved  what  to  do.  And  the 
thing  he  did  was  effective ;  also,  it  was  consist- 
ent,—  it  was  the  sort  of  thing  natural  to  the 
sort  of  life  which  was  all  in  all  to  him. 

This  Child  of  the  World  used  his  worldly 
knowledge  promptly,  thoroughly,  unsparingly, 

[  132] 


THE    MAN    WHO    KEPT    HIS    LIFE 

skilfully  to  save  and  keep  the  worldly  life  so 
dear  to  him. 

"  The  Children  of  this  World/*  says  Jesus, 
"  are  in  their  generation  wiser  than  the  Chil- 
dren of  Light.'* 

What  a  contrast  of  names  !  "  Children  of 
this  World."     "  Children  of  Light." 

While  reading  the  story  of  His  Life,  you 
have  surely  felt  —  for  it  is  often  something 
more  readily  felt  than  actually  perceived  — 
you  have  felt  what  might  be  called  the  far 
look,  the  wide  vision  of  Jesus.  The  influ- 
ence of  it  envelops  Him  like  an  atmosphere. 
And  yet  it  is  no  hazy  atmosphere  of  mysticism 
beclouding  every-day  actualities.  On  the  con- 
trary. He  ever  speaks  like  One  who  sees  things 
—  even  the  most  common  and  most  sordidly 
earthly  things  —  with  more  than  common  clear- 
ness, through  a  light  more  sharply  defining  and 
more  largely  revealing  than  any  light  we  know. 

The  unquestioned  yet  mysterious  fascination 
in  which  Jesus  and  His  teaching  holds  us  lies 
not  a  little  in  this  always  felt  though  not  al- 

[  133  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

ways  understood  fact  of  His  wide.  His  large 
vision,  and  perhaps  even  more  in  His  peculiar 
use  of  it. 

The  very  soul  of  His  Gospel  is, "  I  am  the 
First  Born  Son  of  Light;  and  you,  my  brothers, 
Children  of  My  Father,  you  also  are  Children 
of  Light,  if  you  will  but  accept  your  birthright!" 

And  the  minor  tone  of  sadness  which  runs 
through  the  message  of  Jesus,  which  we  also 
feel,  which  makes  Him  the  Man  of  Sorrows, 
comes  from  grief  because  He  sees  that  so 
many  of  us  love  darkness  rather  than  light 
and  scorn  our  magnificent  birthright,  and  re- 
main content  to  be  children  of  this  poor,  little, 
perishing  world. 

And  the  sadness  of  Jesus  is  deepened  when 
He  sees  that  even  the  Children  of  Light  hold 
their  inheritance  with  feeble  grasp,  and  are  less 
true  to  their  real,  their  infinitely  large  and 
eternal  life,  than  the  Children  of  this  World 
are  to  their  poor  and  petty  life. 

If  you  study  the  parables  of  Jesus  you  will 
discover  that  almost  every  one  of  them  looks 
out  from  some  little  window  of  familiar  earthly 

[134] 


THE    MAN    WHO    KEPT    HIS    LIFE 

fact  or  incident  into  the  greater  life  which  lies 
above,  yet  round  about  this  world.  The  par- 
ables of  Jesus  are  like  powerful  field-glasses 
bringing  into  near  and  convincing  reality  those 
solemn  mountains  which  we  carelessly  imag- 
ined were  only  cloud-land. 

And  the  Parable  of  the  Unjust  Steward, 
this  strange  story  reeking  with  earthliness, 
showing  how  truly  Jesus  was  a  man  of  the 
world  familiar  with  the  seamy  side  of  high  life 
in  His  day,  —  this  parable,  so  amazing  as  an 
utterance  of  the  Holy  Christ,  is  no  exception. 
If  it  descends  into  the  depths  of  sordidness,  it 
rises  thence  into  heights  of  severe  and  heav- 
enly demand.  The  air  which  Jesus  breathes 
while  He  tells  this  story  of  worldly  crooked- 
ness is  evidently  an  atmosphere  more  rarefied 
than  that  of  this  world. 

If  the  crystalline  clearness  of  that  upper  air 
exposes  the  repulsiveness  of  the  shrivelled  soul 
scantily  hidden  under  the  gay  robes  of  the 
Child  of  this  World,  then  this  is  because  Jesus 
would  have  His  little  brothers,  the  Children 
of  Light,  learn  the  truth.     He  would  have  the 

[  135  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Children  of  Light,  who  yet  must  live  in  this 
world,  exposed  to  its  influences  while  they  are 
passing  through  it,  —  He  would  compel  them, 
to  see  the  folly  of  a  divided  life. 

The  Unjust  Steward,  the  poor,  smart,  frivo- 
lous Child  of  this  World,  was  guilty  of  no  such 
crime.  His  life  —  that  which  to  him  was  life 
—  was  only  a  starved  phantom  of  luxurious 
flabbiness ;  but  he  was  true  to  it,  even  when 
it  called  for  the  sacrifice  of  his  reputation  and 
his  self-respect. 

We  see  the  self-same  thing  all  about  us  in 
this  latter  day  of  excessive  worldly  prosperity 
with  its  consequent  luxuriousness. 

There  is  a  certain  sort  of  thing  called  "life." 
It  may  be  in  reality  a  wretched,  tiresome, 
empty  thing;  but  the  livers  of  it  —  how  loyal 
they  are ! 

And  the  gaudy  standard  they  set  up  is  held 
so  high,  it  is  flaunted  so  boldly,  it  glitters  so 
brilliantly,  that  even  the  Children  of  Light  are 
drawn  toward  it. 

"  The  Children  of  this  World  are  wiser  in 
their  generation  than  the  Children  of  Light !  " 

[136] 


THE    MAN    WHO    KEPT    HIS    LIFE 

The  sadness  of  the  Man  of  Sorrows  speaks 
in  these  words ;  the  grief  of  One  who,  stand- 
ing in  clear  light,  sees  plainly  how  those  He 
dearly  loves  are  degrading  themselves. 

This  parable  is  not  for  the  outside  world, 
nor  for  Pharisees,  but  for  the  Brotherhood  of 
Christians. 

Its  place  is  significant.  It  follows  the  par- 
ables of  the  Lost  Sheep,  the  Lost  Coin,  and 
the  Two  Sons,  in  which  Jesus  lifts  the  veil 
and  lets  us  see  how  this  world  appears  to  the 
larger  life  beyond  its  little,  provincial  bounds, 
and  lets  us  listen  to  the  public  opinion  of 
heaven  and  hear  the  echo  of  the  joy  of  the 
bright  spirits  of  the  universe  over  one  sinner 
that  repenteth  —  yea,  the  voice  of  the  deep  joy 
of  the  Almighty  Father's  heart  over  the  return 
of  a  lost  son. 

If  anything  could  make  us  understand  the 
meaning  and  the  value  of  Eternal  Life  and 
the  high  privilege  and  dignity  of  a  place  amid 
the  Children  of  Light;  if  anything  could  teach 
us  what  the  life  of  a  Christian  means  and  what 
it  is  worth,  then  these  parables  in  the  fifteenth 

[  137  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

chapter  of  Luke^s  Gospel,  read  from  Jesus' 
standpoint,  ought  to  do  it.  The  Man  who 
Knows,  the  Great  Expert  who  has  been  there, 
who  sees  by  Heaven's  light,  tells  us  what 
Heaven  thinks  about  these  things. 

And  then  He  turns  to  His  disciples  and 
speaks  to  them  in  this  Parable  of  the  Unjust 
Steward,  and  shows  them  —  and  us  —  by  an 
earthly  satire  what  fools  we  are  if  we  live  the 
life  of  Children  of  the  Light  and  Citizens  of  the 
grander  worlds  outside  this  little  back  country 
of  earth,  —  if  we  live  this  new  and  real  life 
hesitatingly,  doubtfully,  feebly,  disloyally. 

The  Unjust  Steward,  the  Child  of  this  World, 
was  wise  because  he  was  true  to  the  only  thing 
he  knew  as  life.  He  was  wiser  than  we,  even 
though  Children  of  the  Light,  if  we  fail  to  keep 
faith  with  our  infinitely  glorious  life. 

Oh,  it  is  not  easy  !  We  are  still  in  the  world. 
Its  littleness,  its  narrowness,  its  provincialism, 
its  vulgarities,  its  fleshliness  surrounds  us.  In 
this  murky  atmosphere  the  world  seems  real, 
and  the  real,  the  eternal  life  seems  like  some 
misty  shadow.     In  our  inmost  souls  we  know 

[138] 


THE    MAN    WHO    KEPT    HIS    LIFE 

it  IS  not  so ;  we  know  that  the  things  that  are 
seen  are  temporary,  and  that  the  things  unseen 
are  eternal. 

But  the  thing  which  the  world  calls  "  life," 
even  though  our  spirit  knows  it  is  nothing  but 
emptiness  and  folly,  is  strong,  here  on  its  own 
ground. 

It  is  not  easy  to  live  above  it.  But  we  must 
live  above  it.  And  here,  on  its  own  ground 
we  must  meet  and  overcome  the  world. 

Something  like  this  must  be  what  Jesus 
means  by  His  strange  conclusion  from  this 
strange  parable. 

"  And  I  say  unto  you,  make  to  yourselves 
friends  of  the  Mammon  of  Unrighteousness, 
that  when  ye  fail,  they  may  receive  you  into 
everlasting  habitations.  He  that  is  faithful  in 
that  which  is  least,  is  faithful  also  In  much ;  and 
he  that  Is  unjust  in  the  least,  is  unjust  also  In 
much." 

And  if  we  would  know  what  Jesus,  The 
Light,  sees  as  "least"  and  "much,"  He  gives 
us  a  hint  when  He  adds : 

"  If,  therefore,  ye  have  not  been  faithful  in 
[139] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

the  unrighteous  mammon,  who  will  commit  to 
your  trust  the  true  riches  ;  and  if  ye  have  not 
been  faithful  in  that  which  is  another  man's, 
who  shall  give  you  your  own?''  which  seems 
to  say :  the  things  men  call  big,  the  business, 
the  politics,  the  society  of  this  world,  are  really 
little  things.  And  these  little  things  are  not 
your  own.  "  Your  own  '*  is  something  un- 
speakably larger  and  richer.  But  here  in  this 
world  you  must  mix  and  mingle  with  the  little 
things.  You  must  have  business  transactions 
with  the  "  other  man."  In  the  course  of  your 
pilgrimage  his  little  things  get  themselves  com- 
mitted to  you  in  trust.  And  the  skill  and 
faithfulness  you  show  in  dealing  with  the  little 
things  of  the  other  man  must  prove  your  fit- 
ness or  unfitness  for  a  higher  trust :  for  the 
*'  Much,"  for  "  Your  Own,"  for  the  inheritance 
of  Reality  which  very  soon  is  coming  to  every  one 
of  you. 

But  through  it  all  we  must  hold  our  banner 
high.  We  must  remember  that  no  servant  can 
serve  two  masters,  and  that  we  cannot  serve 
God   and   Mammon.     We    must  live   in   this 

[  140  ] 


THE    MAN    WHO    KEPT    HIS    LIFE 

world  and  deal  with  this  world,  but  we  must 
not  stoop  to  its  yoke  nor  let  the  world  call 
itself  our  Master.  We  dare  not  live  a  divided 
life,  we  dare  not  let  the  Unjust  Stewards  all 
about  us  put  us  to  shame  and  show  themselves 
wiser  than  the  Children  of  the  Light,  because 
they  are  true  to  the  thing  they  call  "  life," 
while  we  show  a  weak  and  wavering  loyalty  to 
Our  Own,  to  Reality,  to  Eternal  Life. 

May  God  give  us  light  —  His  light — so 
that  we  may  see  things,  not  as  they  appear 
through  the  mad  whirl  and  blinding  dust  of 
earthliness,  but  as  they  are  in  truth,  as  the 
perfect  vision  of  Jesus  declares  them  1 


[141] 


THE   MAN   WHO   LOOKED   ON   THE 
DARK   SIDE 


Then  said  Thomas,  which  is  called  Didymus, 
unto  his  fellow-disciples.  Let  us  also  go,  that  we 
may  die  with  Him. — John  xi.  i6. 


THE    MAN   WHO    LOOKED    ON   THE 
DARK   SIDE 

The  man  who  expects  the  worst,  and  habitu- 
ally looks  upon  the  dark  side  of  things  cannot 
hope  to  be  a  popular  person.  Pessimism  is 
gloomy  and  forbidding.  Moreover,  it  checks 
"snap"  and  "go."  It  is  a  sort  of  treason 
against  the  spirit  of  our  age.  One  of  the  arti- 
cles of  present-day  faith  is  that  we  must  look 
on  the  bright  side. 

But  our  anxiously  cheerful  optimism  cannot 
hide  the  fact  that  there  is  a  dark  as  well  as  a 
bright  side  of  things  ;  and  there  are  people  who 
are  neither  bad  nor  weak,  people  of  high  and 
noble  character  who  are  by  nature  so  made  that 
it  is  difficult  for  them  to  see  any  other  than  the 
dark  side. 

I  believe  we  have  an  example  in  the  Apostle 
Thomas. 

"  Doubting  Thomas,"  he  is  called ;  but  we 
shall  better  understand  the  nature  of  his  doubts 

[  145  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

and  the  nature  of  the  man  himself  if  we  call 
him  Desponding  Thomas. 

One  must  be  dull  indeed  who  fails  to  see 
that  his  doubt  of  the  Lord*s  resurrection,  his 
refusal  to  believe  unless  he  should  see  the 
print  of  the  nails  and  thrust  his  hand  into  the 
wounded  side  of  Jesus  was  no  speculative  scep- 
ticism. His  doubt  is  explicable  only  when 
we  see  in  it  the  expression  of  deep  dejection 
and  hopeless  sorrow. 

The  darkness  of  the  Cross,  the  pang  of  the 
remembrance  of  the  nails  driven  through  the 
hands  that  had  clasped  his  own  in  love,  the  spear 
rudely  thrust  through  the  sacred  heart  of  his 
dear  Master,  the  gloomy  certainties  of  death 
were  the  things  which  the  disposition  of  Thomas 
made  most  real.  His  sensitive  soul  had  brooded 
over  these  horrors  until  he  was  incapable  of 
accepting  the  testimony  of  his  more  cheerful 
and  hopeful  brethren. 

The  doubt  of  Thomas  was  but  the  expres- 
sion of  a  hopeless  love.  The  text  gives  a 
glimpse  of  the  man  as  he  really  was. 

"  Let  us  also  go,  that  we  may  die  with  Him!'* 
[146] 


THE    LOOK    ON    THE    DARK    SIDE 

The  circumstances  are  familiar  to  us  all. 
Jesus  had  sought  refuge  from  the  rage  of  the 
Jews  in  the  region  beyond  Jordan.  His  life 
was  not  safe  in  Judea.  Then  news  came  that 
Lazarus,  the  head  of  the  house  so  dear  to  Him 
at  Bethany,  was  sick.  Jesus,  knowing  that  by 
the  time  the  messengers  reached  Him  Lazarus 
had  died,  waited  two  days  and  then  said,  "  Let 
us  go  into  Judea  again." 

The  disciples,  very  naturally,  remonstrated : 
"  Master,  the  Jews  of  late  sought  to  stone 
Thee :  and  goest  Thou  thither  again  ?  " 

Then  Jesus  spoke  those  memorable  words 
about  walking  in  the  daylight  of  duty,  where 
alone  is  true  safety.  He  told  them  plainly 
that  Lazarus  was  dead :  and  gave  them  to 
understand  that  the  obligations  of  friendship, 
the  glory  of  God  required  His  presence  at 
Bethany.     He  said,  "  Let  us  go  !  " 

The  other  disciples  appear  to  have  been 
content,  but  Thomas  shows  out  his  character. 
There  was  a  bright  side.  More  than  once  be- 
fore Jesus  had  faced  danger  and  come  through 
it  unharmed.     The  Master  was  mighty ;  the 

[  147  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

known  power  of  His  presence  gave  promise  of 
safety  and  success.  But  there  was  also  a  dark 
side ;  even  the  courageous  assurance  of  Jesus 
did  not  deny  the  danger.  The  natural  dispo- 
sition of  Thomas  compelled  him  to  see  only 
the  worst  possibilities.  The  death  of  Jesus 
at  the  hands  of  His  enemies  was  possible  ;  to 
the  imagination  of  Thomas  it  appeared  as  a 
foredoomed  certainty ;  he  believed  that  going 
again  into  Judea  could  have  but  one  result. 
His  was  an  anxious  love ;  a  love  which,  just 
because  it  was  so  deep,  so  all  absorbing  was 
ever  jealous,  ever  fearful  of  disaster,  always 
expectant  of  the  worst  in  the  face  of  danger. 

How  many  fathers,  how  many  mothers  know 
just  what  that  means  ! 

But  Thomas  was  no  coward.  Who  had  most 
courage  —  those  other  disciples  who  went,  as 
we  may  suppose,  with  a  light  heart  looking  on 
the  bright  side,  or  this  gloomy  man  full  of 
foreboding,  looking  death  in  the  face  and 
saying,  "  Let  us  also  go  that  we  may  die  with 
Him  "  ? 

Thomas  appears  but  seldom  in  the  gospel 

[148] 


THE    LOOK    ON    THE    DARK    SIDE 

Story ;  yet  on  each  occasion,  with  surprising 
consistency  this  ruhng  trait  of  his  character  is 
seen. 

We  meet  him  again  at  the  Last  Supper. 

Jesus  has  been  saying,  "  Let  not  your  heart 
be  troubled.  ...  in  My  Father's  house  are 
many  mansions.  ...  1  go  to  prepare  a  place 
for  you.  .  .  .  And  if  I  go  ...  I  will  come 
again  and  receive  you  unto  Myself;  that  where 
I  am,  there  ye  may  be  also.  And  whither  1 
go  ye  know,  and  the  way  ye  know." 

But  the  heart  of  Thomas  was  troubled. 
One  sad  fact  hid  all  else.  The  bright  side 
was  indeed  exceeding  bright  with  its  picture 
of  the  mansions  in  the  Father's  house,  and 
the  special  room  for  each  disciple  prepared 
by  the  personal  care  and  endeared  by  the  per- 
sonal touch  of  the  Lord ;  and  there  was  the 
promise  of  the  Lord's  return  to  take  them 
into  His  eternal  fellowship. 

But  for  Thomas,  all  the  fair  prospect  was 
clouded  by  one  dark  fact  that  rose  immedi- 
ately in  front.  His  Master  was  going  away, 
going  now.     The  sinking  sense  of  loneliness, 

[  149  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

the  painful  wrench,  the  actual  sorrow  cancelled 
all  comfort  of  what  might  lie  beyond  in  the 
future.  And  when  Jesus  said,  "  Whither  I 
go  ye  know,  and  the  way  ye  know,"  the 
impatience  of  blinding  grief  could  no  longer 
restrain  itself.  Thomas  exclaimed,  "  Lord,  we 
know  not  whither  Thou  goest,  and  how  can 
we  know  the  way  ? " 

Did  he  not  blurt  out  the  very  thought  that 
comes  —  it  may  be  unbidden  —  into  our  own 
souls  in  our  moments  of  bereavement  ? 

Lord,  you  may  know  the  way  to  heaven ; 
you  think  I  ought  to  know  too ;  but  I  don't. 
Heaven  seems  far  off  and  unreal.  But  my 
loss  !  —  that  is  real ;  that  is  here^  now.  And 
my  soul  is  all  dark  with  it ! 

I  have  already  mentioned  the  incident  which 
has  made  Thomas  best  known,  and  has  earned 
for  him  the  name  of  The  Doubter. 

But  his  attitude  when  he  refused  to  believe 
that  the  other  disciples  had  seen  the  Risen 
Lord  is  in  strict  consistency  with  his  char- 
acter as  elsewhere  seen.  It  is  simply  the  at- 
titude of  a  sensitive,  anxiously  loving  man  who 

[150] 


THE    LOOK    ON    THE    DARK    SIDE 

habitually  looks  upon  the  dark  side.  Such  a 
disposition  does  indeed  often  make  faith  dif- 
ficult; and  yet,  to  confound  the  doubt  of 
Thomas  with  any  coldly  reasoned  scepticism 
is  to  betray  ignorance  of  human  nature.  It 
is  also  a  sore  injustice  to  a  true  disciple 
who  loved  his  Lord  devotedly  and  whom  his 
Lord  loved  very  tenderly.  Jesus  understood 
Thomas. 

There  is  nothing  in  the  gospel  story  more 
beautiful  than  the  way  in  which  the  Lord  drew 
out  and  brought  to  light  those  fine  pearls 
of  noble  thoughtfulness  and  discerning  faith 
which  lay  hidden  under  the  blackness  of  the 
despondency  of  His  friend;  and  by  His  chal- 
lenge of  the  wounded  hands  and  side  made 
Thomas  dare  the  boldest,  the  most  advanced, 
the  truest  confession  of  faith  in  the  Christ 
which  had  been  made  by  any  disciple. 

"  My  Lord  and  my  God !  "  This  confes- 
sion, more  truly  than  any  surface  trait,  re- 
veals the  character  of  Thomas.  It  lights  up 
the  inner  shrine  of  his  soul.  We  see  the 
nature    of  that    love    which    underlay   all    his 

[151] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

despondency  and  his  hesitations.  It  was  a 
love  whose  repressed  but  intense  flame  only 
waited  opportunity  to  yield  vision  of  mighty 
truth. 

There  is  nothing  speculative  in  the  confes- 
sion of  Thomas ;  it  is  far  from  the  dryness  of 
a  theologic  formula ;  it  is  the  living  word 
of  an  enlightened  man.  It  is  a  wonderful 
confession.  Not  even  its  declaration  of  the 
Divinity  of  Christ  strikes  its  highest  note.  Its 
highest  note  vibrates  with  the  thrilling  tone 
of  life.  It  is  the  confident  claim  of  human 
fellowship  with   God. 

Thomas  did  not  say,  "  The  Lord  and  the 
God  !  " 

He  said,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God  !  " 

The  Master  whom  he  had  so  anxiously,  so 
jealously  loved  as  his  own,  he  beholds  not  less 
but  more  his  very  own  now  that  this  Master 
and  Lord  is  discerned  as  very  God  ! 

What  marvellous  variety  of  character  is  seen 
in  the  circle  of  the  Twelve ;  and  what  depth 
of  character  is  revealed  in  the  lives  of  these 
comrades  of  Jesus  1 

[  152] 


THE    LOOK    ON    THE    DARK    SIDE 

We  may  thank  God  for  the  variety ;  and 
for  the  fact  that  such  strength  in  variety 
appears  in  such  plain,  every-day  men. 

For,  the  Apostolate  is  the  Church  in  minia- 
ture ;  inclusive  and  not  exclusive  ;  not  an  ec- 
clesiasticism  moulded  into  lifeless  uniformity, 
but  a  family,  full  of  the  vitality  of  a  very 
human  humanity  with  its  varied  idiosyncrasies. 

There  are  more  Thomases  than  we  think 
amid  the  host  of  Christ^s  chosen  ones,  —  men 
and  women  who  by  inborn  disposition  are 
despondent,  irresistibly  inclined  to  look  on 
the  dark  side,  yet  fine  and  sensitive  souls  who, 
because  they  are  fine  and  sensitive,  in  silence 
suffer  untold  agonies  in  face  of  the  facts  of  life. 
There  is  a  dark  side  of  human  life,  —  a  very 
dark  side,  and  they  see  it  more  clearly  and  feel 
it  more  keenly  than  others  see  and  feel  it. 

The  pity  of  ordinary,  cheerful  persons  for 
such  men  and  women  is  ignorant  and  often 
impertinent. 

Only  those  have  the  right  to  either  pity  or 
blame  them  who  have  themselves  gone  through 
the  deep  waters,  because  thus  only  can  any  one 

[153] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

criticise  such  souls  with  the  sympathy  needful 
for  understanding.  But,  after  all,  the  most  of 
us  can  give  them  our  sympathy.  There  are 
few  of  us  who  have  never  had  our  darkened 
moments,  when  the  joy  has  been  taken  out  of 
life  by  trouble  or  anxiety,  when  sorrow  has 
clouded  all  life's  brightness  so  that  the  days 
are  a  burden  and  the  nights  bring  no  rest,  and 
life  seems  scarce  worth  living,  and  instead  of 
hoping  for  the  best  we  find  ourselves  fearing 
the  worst. 

Let  us  thank  God  if  such  times  come  but 
seldom  and  quickly  pass.  But  the  memory  of 
the  pain  of  them  ought  to  compel  sympathy 
with  those  who  are  constitutionally  inclined 
toward  the  dark-sided  view. 

The  correctives  for  such  despondency, 
whether  habitual  or  occasional,  are  not  so 
simple  and  obvious  as  they  may  seem.  It  may 
be  true,  it  often  is  true  that  things  are  not  as 
bad  as  we  imagine  ;  it  is  a  fact  that  behind  the 
clouds  the  sun  is  still  shining.  But  the  com- 
fort to  be  had  from  these  rather  threadbare 
truths  serves  better  after  the  trouble  begins  to 

[  154] 


THE    LOOK    ON    THE    DARK    SIDE 

clear  up  than  while  the  reality  of  its  denser 
shadow  rests  upon  us.  A  stronger  corrective 
is  needed,  such  a  corrective  as  may  be  found 
in  Duty.  If  ever  there  is  a  time  when  duty 
for  duty's  sake  is  precious  and  good  for  the 
soul,  it  is  in  the  dark  moments.  When 
Thomas  said,  "  Let  us  also  go,  that  we  may 
die  with  Him  ! "  he  plucked  the  dignity  and 
the  inspiration  of  high,  courageous,  and  self- 
sacrificing  resolve  out  of  the  mire  of  his  slough 
of  despond.  The  dignity  of  duty  will  grow 
upon  us  if  we  school  ourselves  to  do  it  all  the 
more  carefully  and  faithfully  when  grief  or  de- 
spondency make  duty  seem  least  worth  while. 
And  the  discipline  of  duty,  stern  though  it  may 
seem  at  such  times,  is  needful  for  our  very 
safety. 

When  a  ship  runs  into  a  storm  the  captain 
orders  all  the  other  sails  furled,  but  to  the  very 
last,  through  the  very  worst  he  keeps  the  close- 
reefed  topsail  or  storm  staysail  set,  to  hold  the 
ship's  head  up  toward  the  wind  and  compel 
her  to  face  rather  than  flee  from  the  threaten- 
ing waves.     Something  like  that  is  what  duty 

[155] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

does  for  us  in  the  midst  of  the  tempests  that 
overtake  our  souls.  Running  before  the  wind 
is  most  dangerous  of  all ;  it  gives  the  storm 
its  opportunity  to  have  its  own  way  with  us. 

Our  dark  moments  are  those  which  ought 
to,  which  well  may  make  us  thankful  for  those 
obligations  to  others  which  at  other  times  may 
appear  simply  troublesome.  When  life  may 
not  seem  worth  living  for  ourselves,  then  it 
may  be  seen  to  be  most  worth  living  for  the 
sake  of  those  near  to  us,  those  whom  we  love ; 
and  most  worth  living  for  the  sake  of  our 
fellow-men,  with  whose  griefs  we  now  can 
sympathize. 

But  not  even  the  corrective  of  duty  can  have 
its  full  and  its  complete  effect  until  duty  is 
linked  fast  to  a  faith  in  God  that  grasps  Him 
and  will  not  let  Him  go  even  when  His 
smitings  lame  us. 

Compare  Thomas  with  his  Master.  In 
some  respects  they  were  not  unlike.  There 
was  never  any  one  more  deeply  pierced  with 
the  bitterness  of  human  life  than  Jesus.  Never 
did  anyone  see  more  clearly  the  dark  facts  of 

[156] 


THE    LOOK    ON    THE    DARK    SIDE 

the  world.  He  bore  in  Himself  the  dreadful 
cross  of  our  griefs  and  our  sins.  The  prophet 
who  pictured  His  coming  and  saw  what  it 
would  mean  named  Him  "  the  Man  of 
Sorrows." 

Yet  He  was  never  the  man  of  gloom.  In 
spite  of  the  load  which  Jesus  constantly  carried 
His  presence  was  never  depressing  or  forbid- 
ding. The  shadows  of  His  own  soul  were 
never  cast  over  others. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  things  about 
Jesus  was  His  attractiveness.  And  this  was 
felt  not  only  by  the  good  and  spiritual,  but 
by  all  sorts  of  people.  Little  children  felt  it ; 
the  poor,  the  rude,  the  ignorant,  were  drawn 
to  Him.  Publicans  and  sinners  welcomed 
Jesus  at  their  feasts.  I  doubt  if  they  wel- 
comed Thomas. 

The  secret  of  the  attractiveness  of  Jesus 
was  that  He  carried  the  burdens  of  His 
fellow-men  and  forgot  Himself.  Jesus  never 
did  things  for  Himself.  He  even  neglected 
the  luxury  of  the  expression  of  His  personal 
emotions.     Only  incidentally,  in  His  brief  and 

[157] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

seldom  recorded  prayers,  or  in  words  wrung 
from  Him  by  the  sins  and  sorrows  of  men,  by 
His  sympathy  with  their  joys  or  sufferings 
do  we  discover  His  own  personal  feelings. 
The  cheerfulness  of  Jesus  did  not  come  from 
what  we  lightly  call  "  a  happy  disposition  " ; 
least  of  all  was  it  the  cheerfulness  of  insensi- 
bility. And  it  was  never  forced.  Always 
natural,  there  was  always  something  in  it 
uplifting  and  attractive  ;  and  for  a  significant 
reason.  The  deeper  secret  of  the  attractive- 
ness of  Jesus  was  that,  in  His  darkest  mo- 
ments His  faith  in  His  Father  never  wavered. 
He  claimed  God  for  His  own  even  when 
upon  the  Cross  He  cried,  "  My  God,  why 
hast  Thou  forsaken  me  !  "  Jesus  never  doubted 
the  victorious  result  which  lay  beyond  His 
keenest  griefs.  For  the  joy  that  was  set  be- 
fore Him  He  endured  the  Cross,  despising 
the  shame.  The  dark  side  of  life,  more  dis- 
tinct, more  dreadful  to  Him  than  to  any  other 
who  ever  lived,  never  overcame  Him.  He 
never  doubted  the  purpose  of  the  Father  that 
He  Himself  should  be  at  last  the  conqueror 

[158] 


THE    LOOK    ON    THE    DARK    SIDE 

of  earth*s  darkness.  Even  while  the  darkness 
of  the  world's  sins  and  sorrows  compassed 
Him  most  closely  He  called  Himself  "the 
Light  of  the  World  !  " 

Oh,  Thomas,  godly  man,  true  disciple 
though  you  are,  how  far  below  your  Master 
you  must  take  your  stand ! 

The  trouble  with  Thomas,  and  with  those 
who  are  kindred  to  him,  is  not  so  much  their 
look  upon  the  dark  side;  but  the  real  trouble 
is  that  they  feebly  permit  the  darkness  to  hide 
God. 

Thomas  habitually  looked  about  him  and 
within  himself,  instead  of  lifting  his  eyes 
toward  the  Almighty  Light  which  penetrates 
all  mists  and  shadows. 

So  he  went  his  self-darkened  way,  until  that 
great  moment  when  the  Lord,  in  love  for  his 
true  friend,  gave  him  the  vision  of  God  re- 
vealed in  the  victory  of  the  Suffering  Christ. 

The  salvation  of  Thomas  was  his  true  com- 
radeship with  Jesus.  He  loved  this  Master 
who  was  his  friend  with  a  passionate  love  which 
by   its    very    intensity   reflected,    and   for    the 

[  159  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

moment  intensified,  all  the  gloom  of  his  de- 
spondent nature.  If  the  love  of  Thomas  had 
been  lavished  on  some  mortal  man  or  woman, 
it  might  well  have  proved  his  ruin.  With 
such  a  disposition  as  his,  any  disaster  to  the 
one  he  loved  would  most  likely  have  left  him 
a  hard  cynic,  or  perhaps  driven  him  crazy. 
But  the  love  given  to  Jesus  anchored  his  soul 
fast  to  the  Conqueror  of  all  darkness. 

And  one  spark  of  honest  love  of  Jesus  will 
do  more  to  save  any  of  us  than  all  the  moral 
maxims  or  all  the  sound  theology  in  the  world. 
Because  He,  the  Mightiest  and  Best,  is  still 
Our  Brother,  who  so  keenly  craves  our  love 
that  His  heart  leaps  out  to  its  feeblest  flame 
and  answers  it  a  thousand-fold. 

Then  let  us  hold  fast  to  the  facts  of  Our 
Lord's  nature  and  character ;  and  while  we 
confess  our  fears,  our  coldness,  and  our  doubts, 
let  us  also  courageously  confess  the  strength 
of  that  victorious  Love  which  could  dissolve 
the  gloom  of  Thomas  in  the  vision  of  "  My 
Lord  and  my  God  !  " 

[i6o] 


WHEN   RECKLESSNESS   IS   PRECIOUS 


And  David  longed,  and  said.  Oh  that  one  would 
give  me  drink  of  the  water  of  the  well  of  Bethle- 
hem, which  is  by  the  gate  ! 

And  the  three  mighty  men  brake  through  the 
host  of  the  Philistines,  and  drew  water  out  of  the 
well  of  Bethlehem,  that  was  by  the  gate,  and  took 
it,  and  brought  it  to  David  :  nevertheless  he 
would  not  drink  thereof,  but  poured  it  out  unto 
the  Lord. 

And  he  said.  Be  it  far  from  me,  O  Lord,  that 
I  should  do  this :  is  not  this  the  blood  of  the  men 
that  went  in  jeopardy  of  their  lives  ? 

2  Samuel  xxiii.  15-17. 


WHEN   RECKLESSNESS   IS   PRECIOUS 

Xhy  will  be  done/*  So  the  Lord  Jesus 
bids  us  pray.  And  with  strange  perversity 
we  imagine  that  He  is  giving  us  only  a 
proper  prayer  for  the  grace  of  submission  to 
that  dreadful  Will  whose  doing  must  always 
m.ake  us   suffer. 

But  the  emphasis  of  this  prayer  is  really 
not  upon  the  suffering,  but  upon  the  doing  of 
God's  wdll  ;  and  upon  its  doing  by  men  upon 
the  earth  with  exultant  eagerness,  like  that 
of  those  mighty  angels  in  heaven  who  hold 
themselves  in  readiness  to  anticipate  the  very 
wish  of  God. 

From  the  angels  in  heaven  to  the  mighty 
men  of  David's  band  at  the  Cave  of  Adullam 
may  seem  a  long  descent ;  and  yet  in  the  story 
of  their  romantic  devotion  to  their  captain  we 
have  a  fine  illustration  of  the  inner  spirit  of 
the  petition  in  the  Lord's  Prayer,  which  bids 

[  163  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

US  pray,  "Thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is 

done  in  heaven.'* 

That  was  a  strange  company  which  gathered 
about  David.  David  himself  was  not  only  an 
exile,  but  an  outlaw  driven  from  the  court  of 
Saul,  who  sought  to  kill  him.  At  first  he  had 
found  refuge  with  the  Philistines  ;  but  the  re- 
membrance of  his  victory  over  their  champion 
Goliath  made  them  suspicious,  and  he  felt 
himself  unsafe  in  their  country.  "  David  there- 
fore departed  thence  and  escaped  to  the  Cave 
Adullam.  And  when  his  brethren  and  all  his 
father's  house  heard  it,  they  went  down  thither 
unto  him.  And  every  one  that  was  in  dis- 
tress, and  every  one  that  was  in  debt,  and 
every  one  that  was  discontented,  gathered 
themselves  unto  him  ;  and  he  became  a  cap- 
tain over  them :  and  there  were  with  him 
about  four  hundred  men.** 

A  motley  company,  it  would  seem.  And 
the  Cave  of  Adullam  has  become  a  byword 
expressive  of  the  gathering  together  of  politi- 
cal discontent.  Yet  the  nucleus  of  a  new  and 
mighty  kingdom  was  forming  itself  there. 

[  164] 


WHEN    RECKLESSNESS    IS    PRECIOUS 

The  discontent  of  that  time  was  disgust  with 
the  unreasonable  and  inefficient  rule  of  a  self- 
ish despot.  The  distress  was  that  of  men 
driven  to  desperation  by  a  tyranny  unable  to 
either  keep  peace  with  or  conquer  the  nation's 
enemies ;  and  the  debtors  may  well  have  been 
men  deprived  by  arbitrary  exactions  of  the 
ability  to  meet  their  obligations. 

We  know  that  there  were  at  least  a  few 
noble  souls  at  the  Cave  of  Adullam  with 
David.  Joab  and  Abishai  and  Ashael,  three 
brothers  who  afterward  became  renowned  cap- 
tains, were  apparently  with  him ;  and  Abi- 
athar,  the  priest  of  the  Lord,  whose  father 
had  been  slain  by  Saul's  command,  was  either 
there  or  soon  afterward  joined  the  company ; 
and  the  prophet  Gad  was  a  visitor  amongst 
them. 

A  man  naturally  attracts  men  of  his  own 
sort,  and  a  man  who  is  a  born  leader  draws 
to  himself  spirits  kindred  with  his  own.  The 
men  who  collected  at  the  Cave  of  Adullam 
were  men  who  saw  in  David  the  hope  of  their 
country,  and  the  sort  of  devotion  he  could  in- 

[  165  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

spire  is  shown  by  the  incident  recorded  in  the 
text. 

In  order  to  measure  this  devotion  rightly, 
we  must  remember  that  David  was  no  king 
with  rewards  to  bestow.  He  was  a  hunted 
outlaw  with  a  price  upon  his  head.  There 
could  scarcely  be  any  selfish  afterthought  in 
anything  any  one  did  for  David  at  that  time. 
If  men  served  him,  this  was  because  they 
loved  him  and  trusted  him. 

The  Cave  of  AduUam  was  in  one  of  the 
ravines  leading  down  from  the  Judean  high- 
lands toward  the  Dead  Sea.  It  was  not  far 
from  Bethlehem  ;  and  it  is  illustrative  of  the 
condition  of  the  country  under  Saul's  regime 
that  such  a  commanding  place  as  Bethlehem 
should  be  in  possession  of  the  Philistines  and 
held  by  a  garrison  of  invading  oppressors. 

Perhaps  the  fact  that  these  enemies  held  his 
native  town  made  David  think  the  more  ten- 
derly and  longingly  of  it.  He  remembered 
the  well  that  was  by  the  city  gate,  from  which 
while  a  boy,  he  had  so  often  quenched  his 
thirst,  —  that   well,   the   village    meeting-place 

[i66] 


WHEN    RECKLESSNESS    IS    PRECIOUS 

of  all  the  shepherds  when  he  was  himself  a 
shepherd.  What  sweet  memories  clustered 
about  it ! 

Water  is  not,  for  us,  the  scarce  and  precious 
thing  that  it  was,  and  is  still,  to  people  of 
Eastern  lands.  And  yet  few  of  us  —  few,  at 
least  of  those  of  us  who  were  country  or  vil- 
lage born  —  fail  to  count  among  the  precious 
memories  of  our  youthful  days  the  well  or 
spring  to  which  we  used  to  go  when  thirsty. 

It  is  a  touch  of  nature  which  makes  David 
kin  with  every  wholesome  soul,  that  when  he 
was  at  the  Cave  of  Adullam,  where  the  water 
supply  was  doubtless  scant  and  not  over-good, 
he  should  have  longed  for  a  drink  from  the 
well  that  is  by  the  gate  at  Bethlehem.  One 
of  the  traits  in  David's  character  which  make 
us  love  him  is  this  strong  love  of  sweet  and 
simple  things,  —  the  love  of  green  fields  and 
starry  skies  and  his  boyhood's  home  and  his 
shepherd  life,  which  all  through  his  great 
though  stormy  career  stayed  by  him. 

Just  now  David  was  homesick  and  heartsick, 
—  homesick  because  heartsick.     The  Cave  of 

[  167  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Adullam  was  a  trying  change  from  life  in  the 
royal  court. 

It  was  hard  to  be  treated  as  an  enemy  by 
his  king  while  his  country's  enemies  were  at 
the  gate  of  his  native  town.  He  wished  him- 
self a  shepherd  lad  once  more,  and  his  thought 
spoke  in  the  words,  "  Oh  that  one  would  give 
me  to  drink  of  the  water  of  the  well  that  is  by 
the  gate  of  Bethlehem  !  " 

I  think  he  spoke  to  himself  without  a 
thought  of  any  listener,  though  the  great 
longing  in  his  heart  made  him  speak  aloud. 
But  some  of  his  companions  heard,  and  under- 
stood. They  knew  it  was  far  from  David's 
thought  to  order  any  man,  or  even  ask  any 
man  to  take  the  risk  of  going  to  that  well. 
But  their  hearts  felt  for  him.  I  think  they 
said  in  undertone  to  each  other,  "  How  it 
would  please  the  Captain  if  we  could  really 
give  him  a  drink  from  the  well  at  Bethlehem  !  '* 
and  there  were  three  friends  who  looked  into 
each  other's  faces  and  said,  with  common  im- 
pulse, "  We  will  do  it !  " 

Perhaps  the  three  were  Joab  and  Abishai 
[i68] 


WHEN    RECKLESSNESS    IS    PRECIOUS 

and  Beniah ;  or  perhaps  they  were  the  other 
three  afterward  known  as  the  mightiest  of 
David's  mighty  men.  It  matters  not ;  they 
were  three  heroes.  They  went  quietly  out  of 
the  camp,  they  broke  through  the  Philistine 
guards,  they  cut  their  way  into  the  outposts, 
they  reached  the  well  and  drew  the  water, 
and  then,  with  their  hard-won  treasure  they 
fought  their  way  back  again  through  the  host 
of  their  enemies  and  came  down  to  Adullam 
and  offered  the  gift  of  their  perilous  valor  to 
David. 

We  can  see  them  as  they  stood  before  him 
with  faces  flushed  at  the  thought  of  their  deed ; 
we  can  almost  hear  them  say,  "  Here,  Captain, 
here  is  what  you  were  wishing  for ;  here  is 
water  from  the  well  that  is  by  the  gate  of 
Bethlehem  !  " 

They  were  young  men.  Partly  it  was  the 
love  of  adventure  that  sent  them  on  their 
errand.  They  were  proud  of  their  prowess; 
their  eyes  flashed  with  the  triumph  of  it  as 
they  held  out  the  precious  water-jar  to  their 
Captain.     But  they  had  done  what  they  never 

[  169  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

would  have  dreamed  of  doing  had  they  not 
loved  David.  The  sort  of  love  they  bore  him 
is  seen  in  the  fact  that  they  waited  for  no  com- 
mand, but  willingly  obeyed  what  they  saw  was 
a  wish  of  his  heart.  And  all  the  reward  they 
sought  was  to  make  him  glad. 

But  why  is  such  a  deed  as  this  recorded,  not 
once,  but  twice,  in  the  Bible  history  ?  It  was 
a  reckless  deed ;  the  risk  of  it,  the  peril  of 
sacrifice  in  it  was  altogether  disproportioned 
to  any  useful  service  that  could  be  rendered. 
Why  was  it  worth  while  to  tell  it  twice  so  that 
future  ages  should  be  sure  to  know  it? 

The  answer  is  plain  to  those  who  can  under- 
stand. 

This  was  a  service  of  love.  It  was  an  offer- 
ing of  romantic,  unselfish,  uncalculating  friend- 
ship that  went  straight  to  David's  heart  and 
which  he  could  never  forget,  nor  could  those 
who  loved  David  allow  it  to  be  forgotten. 
David's  power  was  built  on  just  this  sort  of 
personal  devotion.  He  was  one  of  those  rare 
souls  who  drew  men's  very  souls  to  himself. 
This  is  a  typical  instance  of  the  way  in  which 

[  170] 


WHEN    RECKLESSNESS    IS    PRECIOUS 

men  were  ready  to  serve  him  ;  and  the  real 
wealth  and  glory  of  his  royalty  was  that  royal 
heart  in  him  which  always  gathered  abundance 
of  such  service. 

Royal  also  was  his  acceptance  of  the  offering 
of  the  three  heroes  ;  and  not  the  less  so  be- 
cause he  was  not  a  king,  but  only  captain  of 
an  outlaw  band  when  it  was  rendered  him. 
If  they  loved  him  before,  they  loved  and  rev- 
erenced him  tenfold  more  afterward. 

We  can  see  him  as  he  stood  surrounded  by 
the  excited  throng  of  his  followers,  with  the 
three  battle-stained  young  men  before  him 
holding  out  the  water-jar.  There  is  a  glad 
flush  of  pride  in  his  face,  answering  in  sym- 
pathy the  exultation  in  their  faces ;  but  his 
eyes  moisten  in  tenderness,  at  once  at  the 
thought  of  their  love  for  him  and  at  the 
thought  of  the  peril  they  had  undergone. 
A  brave  man  knows  the  cost  of  a  brave  deed. 
David  takes  the  water-jar  into  his  own  hands. 
I  almost  think  he  raised  it  reverently  toward 
his  lips ;  and  then  suddenly  he  said,  "  I  can- 
not drink  it."     And  with  a  deeper  reverence, 

[171] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

with  a  prayer  or  invocation,  he  poured  out 
the  precious  gift  as  an  offering  to  the  only 
One  worthy  of  such  self-devotion.  "  He 
poured  it  out  unto  Jehovah,  and  he  said : 
"  Be  it  far  from  me,  O  Lord,  that  I  should 
do  this.  Shall  I  drink  the  blood  of  the  men 
that  went  in  jeopardy  of  their  lives  ? " 

In  the  fulness  of  time  there  came  to  earth 
a  son  of  David,  the  Child  of  a  great  prophecy 
and  promise,  whom  David  himself  in  one  of 
his  Psalms  calls  "  Lord."  In  Him  dwelt  the 
Presence  of  that  Holy  One  to  whom  David 
poured  out  the  water  brought  at  the  peril  of 
his  friends  from  the  well  that  is  by  the  gate 
at  Bethlehem. 

His  name  is  Jesus,  and  He  is  our  Christ. 
The  character  of  His  person  is  such  that  He 
draws  to  himself  a  devotion  even  more  un- 
measured than  that  which  was  given  to  David. 

There  is  a  story  of  devotion  to  Jesus  which, 
in  spite  of  its  contrasts,  bears  in  the  spirit  of 
it  a  singular  hkeness  to  the  deed  of  David's 
recklessly  brave  friends ;  and  it  is  noteworthy 

[  172  ] 


WHEN    RECKLESSNESS    IS    PRECIOUS 

that  this  service  was  offered  by  a  woman.  It 
was  when  Mary  broke  the  precious  vase  of 
costly  ointment  and  anointed  the  feet  of 
Jesus  at  the  feast  given  in  thanksgiving  for 
the  raising  of  her  brother  Lazarus  from  the 
dead. 

In  the  gospel  incident  there  is  the  same 
reckless,  extravagant,  uncalculating  love  that 
we  see  in  David's  companions.  Both  alike 
rendered  a  service  strictly  personal.  What 
Mary  did  to  Jesus  was  not  done  for  His 
Cause,  but  for  Himself;  precisely  as  the  water 
from  the  well  at  Bethlehem  was  won  for 
David's  very  self  alone. 

At  first  sight  it  may  seem  that  Mary  was 
reckless  only  of  property,  while  David's  men 
risked  their  lives.  But  the  criticism  of  Mary's 
act,  even  by  some  of  the  disciples,  —  and  sig- 
nificantly by  Judas,  —  is  enough  to  show  that 
she  was  closely  watched.  She  was  not  an 
obscure  person  who  could  safely  do  such  a 
deed  of  devotion  without  attracting  attention 
and  inviting  personal  risk.  Mary  and  her 
sister   Martha  and  her  brother  Lazarus  were 

[173] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

well  known  in  Jerusalem.  It  appears  that 
they  were  connected  by  social  ties  with  those 
very  rulers  of  the  Jews  who  were  already 
plotting  the  death  of  Jesus.  It  is  often  more 
dangerous  to  offend  your  friends  than  to  defy 
your  enemies,  especially  when  those  "  friends  " 
are  only  social  or  party  acquaintances.  Mary's 
act  was  nothing  less  than  worship  of  Him 
whom  her  powerful  associates  had  marked  for 
death.  She  offered  far  more  than  the  costly 
vase  of  rare  ointment.  Her  anointing  only 
marked  the  fulness  of  the  personal  and  daring 
devotion  to  Jesus  that  was  seen  shortly  after- 
ward when  Mary  with  a  few  other  women 
stood  beside  the  Cross,  from  whence  the  dis- 
ciples had  fled.  Her  deed  was  extravagant  — 
wasteful,  if  you  will ;  Judas  thought  so.  And 
it  was  dangerous;  it  exposed  a  young,  delicately 
nurtured  woman  to  the  peril  of  that  most 
deadly  of  all  hatred,  the  peril  of  religious 
hatred.  Moreover,  so  far  as  the  result  was 
concerned,  it  was  seemingly  useless. 

But  how  did  Jesus  receive  it?     He  not  only 
accepted  Mary's  devotion ;  He  praised  her  ap- 

[174] 


WHEN    RECKLESSNESS    IS    PRECIOUS 

patently  useless,  her  seemingly  wasteful,  her 
unmeasured,  unpractical  offering  as  He  never 
praised  anything  else  ever  done  by  any  one 
in  His  service.  He  declared  :  "  Wheresoever 
this  gospel  shall  be  preached,  there  shall  this 
also  that  this  woman  hath  done  be  told  for  a 
memorial  of  her." 

He  made  her  deed  immortal ;  and  signifi- 
cantly He  placed  such  service  as  that  of  Mary, 
extravagant,  reckless,  useless  though  it  may  be 
in  the  world*s  sight,  above  what  men  call 
"  charity "  !  He  placed  it  above  giving  to 
the  poor !  — just  as  David  lifted  the  reckless 
daring  of  his  three  heroes  into  the  sacredness 
of  a  religious  act. 

Surely  there  are  lessons  for  us  in  these  facts 
of  divine  history.  And,  first  of  all,  there  is 
enlightenment  as  to  the  true  test  of  success  in 
Christian  doing. 

We  are  forever  tempted  to  abide  by  what 
is  called  the  "  practical  "  test.  How  wise  peo- 
ple will  look  when  they  gravely  tell  you  that 
this  or  that  sort  of  Christian  effort  or  sacrifice 
"  does  not  pay  !  "    With  what  an  air  of  finality 

1^75] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

they  will  assure  you  that  it  produces  no  results 
commensurate  with  the  expenditure  of  life  or 
labor  or  money !  Christian  missions  to  for- 
eign lands  in  particular  have  always  suffered 
from  a  constant  running  fire  of  such  criticism. 
And,  in  fact,  almost  every  form  of  supremely 
self-sacrificing  devotion  to  Christ  has  had  to 
eudure  the  Judas  argument  of  the  waste  of 
precious  ointment. 

But  is  this  so-called  practical  test  a  true 
one?  No!  It  is  not.  Tried  in  the  light  of 
the  deed  of  David's  friends,  measured  by  the 
standard  of  Mary's  offering,  it  is  found  wo- 
fully  wanting ;  it  shows  itself  but  a  grovelling, 
a  shameful  test. 

The  truth  is,  our  plans,  our  work,  our 
efforts  are  by  themselves  of  little  importance. 
The  Lord  lets  us  try  to  do  things  so  that  we 
may  learn  the  ways  of  His  service ;  and  until 
He  with  His  masterful  skill  finishes  off  and 
completes  the  ragged  edges  of  our  work,  it 
amounts  to  nothing. 

We  talk  entirely  too  much  about  "  work  for 
Jesus,"  as  though  we  could  really  do  anything 

[176] 


WHEN    RECKLESSNESS    IS    PRECIOUS 

which  adds  to  His  power  or  His  success! 
We  ought  to  be  thinking  more  about  work 
with  Christ  and  service  under  Christ.  The 
spirit  of  our  doing  is  of  far  more  consequence 
than  the  things  we  do.  It  is  less  impor- 
tant that  christian  and  churchly  organization 
should  be  perfect,  and  christian  effort  have 
results  to  show  that  can  be  counted  in  figures 
or  reckoned  in  dollars  and  cents,  than  that 
there  should  be  in  Christ's  Church  the  spirit 
that  is  seen  in  David's  mighty  men  or  in 
Mary  of  Bethany. 

When  Jesus  bids  us  pray,  "Thy  Will  be 
done  ! "  He  puts  no  ineffectual  prayer  into  our 
mouths,  but  with  the  prayer  goes  an  implied 
pledge  that  the  Will  of  Our  Father  shall  surely 
be  done  upon  this  earth  as  it  is  done  in  heaven. 
And  if  we  would  be  fit  for  a  place  in  the  ranks 
of  that  army  marching  through  earth  with  the 
power  of  the  Heavenly  Hosts,  we  must  catch 
their  spirit.  We  must  cease  our  impotent  in- 
terpretation of  God's  Will  as  a  hard  and  dread- 
ful thing  which  must  be  suffered,  and  our 
impudent  imagining   that  we   can   better    His 

[  177  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Will  by  our  puny  doing.  We  must  draw  near 
to  Our  glorious  Lord,  and  look  up  to  Him, 
and  let  the  charm  of  His  Presence  sink  into 
our  very  souls,  until,  with  reckless  self-aban- 
donment, our  highest  joy  shall  be  to  obey 
His  wish  without  waiting  for  His  command, 
until  — 

"  Our  faith  springs  like  the  eagle 
Who  soars  to  meet  the  sun, 
And  cries,  exuking  unto  Thee, 
'  O  Lord,  Thy  will  be  done  ! '  " 

The  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  can  never  afford 
to  slight  or  undervalue  the  service  of  personal 
self-sacrifice.  In  fact  the  most  extravagant, 
the  most  romantic  self-devotion  is  just  that 
which  has  proved  itself  richest  in  actual  and 
visible  results ;  as  is  witnessed  by  the  career 
of  Paul  of  Tarsus  and  a  long  line  of  martyr 
heroes  of  like  self-devotion. 

After  all,  there  is  but  one  thing  we  can  give 
King  Jesus.  The  silver  and  the  gold  and  the 
product  of  the  industry  of  men  are  already 
His    by   right.      One    thing    alone   is   left    us 

[178] 


WHEN    RECKLESSNESS    IS    PRECIOUS 

for  our  very  own,  and  that  He  craves  and 
longs  to  receive  from  us  as  our  free  gift. 
That  one  thing  is  the  heart's  love  of  His 
brethren  and  His  comrades  in  His  Father's 
service. 


[  179] 


MARY   THE    BLESSED 


And  Mary  said. 

My  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord, 

And  my  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  God  my  Saviour. 

For   He   hath   regarded   the   low  estate  of  His 

handmaiden. 
For,    behold,    from   henceforth    all   generations 

shall  call  me  Blessed.  —  Luke  i.  46—48. 


MARY    THE    BLESSED 

Save  for  two  slight  though  significant  remarks, 
this  Hymn  of  Praise  is  the  only  recorded  ut- 
terance of  Mary  the  Mother  of  Jesus. 

Can  we  take  this  Magnificat  as  an  expression 
of  her  character  ?  I  believe  we  may  most  confi- 
dently do  so.  But  we  shall  probably  discover 
that  the  picture  of  Mary  which  arises  out  of 
the  Magnificat  is  different  from  that  to  which 
we  have  been  accustomed. 

After  the  first  impression  of  the  music  of 
this  grand  song  has  subsided  sufliciently  for 
reflection  upon  its  thought  and  sentiment,  we 
shall  surely  find  ourselves  asking  questions. 

To  say  nothing  about  the  questions  raised 
by  the  nature  of  such  an  utterance  as  a  whole 
from  such  a  person  as  Mary,  what  must  we 
think  when  we  hear  her  saying, 

"  He  hath  scattered  the  proud  in  the  imagina- 
tion of  their  heart. 

[183] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

He  hath   put  down  the  mighty   from   their 

seats, 
And  hath  exalted  them  of  low  degree. 
The  hungry  He  hath  filled  with  good  things ; 
And  the  rich  He  hath  sent  empty  away.'* 

How  shall  we  account  for  this  almost  vin- 
dictive exultation  over  the  defeat  of  the  rich 
and  mighty  ? 

How  can  we  explain  such  a  feeling  of  almost 
fierce  triumph  in  the  heart  of  the  gentle  maiden 
who  was  the  Mother  of  Jesus? 

Perhaps  you  may  say,  "She  does  but  echo  the 
world-old  protest  of  the  down-trodden  against 
oppression  and  the  outcry  of  the  poor  against 
the  rich." 

If  Mary  was  indeed  nothing  more  than  a 
simple  peasant  girl,  then  something  of  this  sort 
is  about  all  that  can  be  said.  But  the  expres- 
sion of  such  a  sentiment  in  such  a  form  as  that 
of  this  hymn  does  not  come  naturally  from 
a  simple  peasant  girl.  Few  things  in  Holy 
Scripture  can  compare  with  the  deep-toned 
majesty  of  the  Magnificat.     There  is  in  it  a 

[184] 


MARY    THE    BLESSED 

conscious  dignity  —  I  had  almost  said,  a  proud 
defiance  —  scarcely  matched  by  the  Psalms  of 
David.  There  is  also  a  singular  likeness  in 
Mary's  Song  to  some  of  the  Psalms  in  which 
David  exalts  over  his  enemies. 

I  wonder  if  we  sufficiently  remember  who 
Mary  was,  and  recall  as  distinctly  as  we  might 
that  she  is  a  descendant  of  David  ? 

Doubtless  you  have  noticed  the  difference 
between  the  genealogy  in  Matthew's  Gospel 
which  traces  Joseph's  descent  from  David  and 
the  genealogy  given  by  Luke,  so  singularly 
worded  at  the  beginning  that  it  seems  to  imply 
that  this  is  the  pedigree  of  some  one  else  than 
Joseph.  There  is  a  theory  strongly  maintained, 
though  not  very  generally  accepted,  that  this 
genealogy  in  Luke  is  in  reality  Mary's  family 
tree. 

But  apart  from  the  somewhat  complicated 
argument  concerning  the  names,  there  is  one 
large  consideration  which  cannot  be  lightly  dis- 
missed;  which  is  that  this  is  the  record  of  the 
descent  of  the  Son  of  Man  not  only  from 
David,  but  through   David  up  to   Adam  the 

[185] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

first  son  of  God ;  and  thus  it  seems  scarcely 
appropriate  to  any  one  but  Mary. 

Beside  all  questions  of  the  genealogy  how- 
ever, it  is  unquestioned  that  Mary  and  Joseph 
were  not  very  distant  cousins.  They  were  both 
members  of  the  same  royal  race. 

It  has  been  too  hastily  assumed  that  the 
family  of  David  was,  at  the  time  when  Jesus 
was  born  lost  in  utter  obscurity. 

Several  facts  seem  to  prove  the  contrary.  It 
would  be  surprising  if  this  family  alone  escaped 
the  scrutiny  of  the  carefully  kept  records  by 
which  the  pedigree  of  every  son  of  Israel  was 
religiously  preserved.  That  they  did  not  es- 
cape is  proved  by  the  journey  of  Joseph  and 
Mary  to  Bethlehem  to  be  taxed  —  or  enrolled. 
Joseph  went  from  Nazareth  to  the  city  of 
David  which  is  called  Bethlehem  because  he  — 
and  Mary  also  —  were  of  the  house  and  lineage 
of  David. 

The  house  and  lineage  of  David  had  indeed 
become  hidden  from  public  view ;  and  yet  the 
name  of  it  was  still  a  name  to  conjure  with, 
as  may  be  seen  all  through  the  course  of  the 

[i86] 


MARY    THE    BLESSED 

life  of  Jesus.  And  it  was  a  name  to  be 
dreaded  by  the  corrupt  creatures  —  kings  and 
priests  —  who  ruled  in  Jerusalem. 

When  the  wise  men  came  from  the  East  with 
their  story  of  the  star,  Herod  was  troubled 
and  all  Jerusalem  with  him.  Doubtless  Herod 
had  the  superstitious  faith  in  astrology  and  in 
astrologers  common  to  his  time;  but  some- 
thing more  than  the  star  troubled  him.  He 
was  a  shrewd,  practical  politician.  He  knew 
that  the  countryside  was  seething  with  an  al- 
most fanatical  hope  of  a  coming  Messiah.  He 
must  have  known  that  the  ancient  prophecies 
promised  a  Messiah  of  the  house  of  David. 
When,  in  answer  to  his  demand  the  obsequious 
scribes  told  him  that  Christ  was  to  be  born  in 
Bethlehem,  I  do  not  think  Herod  was  sur- 
prised. We  can  almost  hear  him  saying  within 
himself,  "  I  thought  so.  That  is  the  City  of 
David ;  that  is  the  very  nest  of  this  dangerous 
family.  And  just  now  they  are  all  assembled 
there  for  the  census  which  has  been  ordered." 
The  devilish  cunning  of  a  great  fear  was  in  that 
bloody  command  to  slay  all  the  male  children 

[187] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

from  two  years  old  and  under  in  Bethlehem 
and  the  coasts  thereof. 

Yes,  Herod  was  a  practical  man  ;  and  there 
had  been  others  like  him  through  several  cen- 
turies past.  There  were  strong  reasons  why 
the  descendants  of  David  should  keep  them- 
selves in  the  shadow.  It  is  easy  to  under- 
stand why  the  family  of  David  should  not 
be  conspicuous. 

Those  who  fall  from  a  high  place  fall  far- 
thest, and  the  memory  of  a  lost  inheritance 
easily  serves  to  unman  and  unnerve.  Disaster, 
poverty,  neglect,  the  very  peril  of  a  great 
name,  had  done  its  work.  Rarely  could  any 
sign  of  princely  quality  be  discerned  in  this 
once  royal  but  now  crushed  race.  But  here 
and  there  some  royal  soul  rose  above  all 
disaster  and  degradation  and  kept  its  lofty 
poise  and  was  inwardly  ennobled  by  outward 
loss.  Daniel,  the  captive  boy,  afterward  prime 
minister  in  Babylon,  was  one  of  them,  and  I 
believe  we  must  reckon  Mary  among  these 
glorious  spirits. 

Now,  is  it  not  wonderful,  is  it  not  beautiful, 

[i88] 


MARY    THE    BLESSED 

that  in  the  crisis  moment  of  its  history,  the  one 
member  of  the  fallen  house  of  David  in  whom 
David's  spirit  survived  should  have  been  a 
woman,  —  a  young,  poor,  inconspicuous  girl  ! 

We  have  drifted  into  an  ignorant  sentimen- 
talism  concerning  the  mother  of  Jesus.  It  is 
so  pretty,  so  picturesque,  to  imagine  her  as  a 
simple,  unsophisticated  peasant  maiden  !  And 
the  mindless  Madonnas  of  the  semi-pagan 
Italian  Renaissance,  the  exquisite  dolls  of  Ra- 
phael and  his  contemporaries,  —  how  mightily 
they  have  helped  to  fasten  this  unbiblical  no- 
tion upon  the  Christian  world  !  Even  theol- 
ogy in  its  presumptuous  effort  to  uphold  the 
sovereign  grace  of  God  by  insistence  on  the 
humility  of  the  channel  of  His  greatest  gift 
has  helped  our  blindness. 

But  we  have  our  Bibles.  We  know,  or  we 
ought  to  know,  something  of  the  severe  gran- 
deur of  those  Christ  prophecies  upon  which 
the  Christ  hope  of  Mary*s  day  rested,  —  those 
prophecies  which  we  may  be  sure  Mary  knew 
by  heart  and  had  pondered  deeply,  for  her 
Magnificat  breathes  the  very  spirit  of  them. 

[189] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

And  we  know,  if  we  have  studied  our  Bible  to 
any  purpose,  that  while  God  often  chooses 
the  lowly  in  earthly  station,  He  chooses  the 
high-souled  for  the  ministry  of  His  great 
grace. 

David  was  only  a  shepherd  lad,  but  he  came 
of  grand  stock.  The  blood  of  Ruth  and  Boaz 
was  in  him,  and  even  in  his  boyhood  the 
kingjlv  soul  within   him  shone  out. 

The  kingly  soul  was  in  Mary.  She  was  a 
true  child  of  David.  When  she  magnifies 
the  Lord  and  rejoices  in  God  her  Saviour,  is 
not  her  heart  swelling  with  triumph  because 
David's  blood  is  coming  to  its  own  again  ^ 
Does  she  not  exult  because  its  long  night  of 
eclipse  is  beginning  to  be  touched  with  the 
finger  of  a  dawn  of  vindication  and  victory  ? 
When  she  says,  "  His  mercy  is  from  genera- 
tion to  generation  upon  them  that  fear  him  !  ** 
is  she  not  mindful  of  the  mighty  promise,  the 
promise  of  the  Lord  to  David  and  to  his 
seed  ?  Does  she  not  feel  the  fulfilment  of 
that  promise  in  herself  and  to  her  family  ? 

If  we  would  picture  Mary  as  the  Gospel 
[  190  ] 


MARY    THE    BLESSED 

pictures  her,  as  she  really  was  and  not  as 
sentiment  and  tradition  picture  her,  we  must 
think  of  her  as  an  Old  Testament  saint. 
Something  of  the  character  of  her  namesake 
Miriam,  sister  of  Moses  may  be  traced  in 
Mary  ;  more  of  the  character  of  Ruth,  her  an- 
cestress ;  or  of  Hannah  mother  of  Samuel, 
whose  thanksgiving  at  the  birth  of  her  son 
Mary's  Magnificat  seems  to  echo. 

Mary  was  a  large-minded  woman,  deeply 
imbued  with  that  patriotic  hatred  of  wrong  to 
her  people  which  is  so  passionately  voiced  in 
the  Psalms  of  David,  her  forefather. 

And  Herod,  the  Idumean  Usurper,  — 
Herod  called  "  The  Great "  because  of  the 
splendor  of  his  powers  of  wickedness,  —  oc- 
cupied the  throne  of  David  ! 

And  Annas,  grown  rich  by  corrupt  financing 
of  the  Temple  revenue,  —  Annas,  the  con- 
temptible creature  of  Roman  intrigue,  —  sat 
in  the  High  Priest's  place !  Can  you  wonder 
that  this  high-souled  Hebrew  maiden,  this 
daughter  of  David,  magnifying  the  Lord 
because  the    King  of   Righteousness  is  about 

[191]. 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

to    be    born    of  her   exults   and   says,  as    she 
remembers  Herod  and  remembers  Annas, — 

"My  Lord  hath  shewed  strength  with  His 
arm  ; 

He  hath  scattered  the  proud  in  the  imagina- 
tion of  their  heart. 

He  hath  put  down  the  mighty  from  their  seats 
and  hath  exalted  them  of  low  degree. 

He  hath  filled  the  hungry  with  good  things. 

And  the  rich  hath  He  sent  empty  away  !  '* 

Here  is  the  courage  of  that  high  faith  which 
grasps  the  future  results  contained  in  present 
facts  and  sees  the  end  from  the  beginning. 

Mary's  Magnificat  glows  with  the  far-reach- 
ing vision,  the  sublime  patience,  the  passionate 
faith  in  the  promise  shining  star-like  in  the  be- 
yond, which  is  the  finest  characteristic  of  the 
Hebrew  race,  which  made  Abraham  magnifi- 
cent and  changed  Jacob's  name  to  Israel. 

This  prophetically  regal  spirit  suggests  itself 
throughout  the  life  of  Mary ;  and  by  a  strange 
paradox  it  is  just  this  which  makes  her  such  an 
elusive  character  in  the  Gospel  history. 

[  192] 


MARY    THE    BLESSED 

There  Is  a  queenliness,  imperious,  self-assert- 
ing, greedy  of  power  and  applause.  It  is  not 
the  highest  sort.  It  clouds  the  womanly  quali- 
ties ;  nay,  it  belittles  the  highest  humanity  of  its 
possessor.  We  see  it  in  Elizabeth  of  England 
whose  unquestioned  greatness  is  so  marred  by 
exasperating  littlenesses.  The  highest  queen- 
liness  shows  itself  in  an  inborn  dignity  that 
rises  above  both  prosperity  and  adversity,  and 
in  a  soul  centred  not  in  the  personal  gains, 
but  in  the  solemn  duties  of  high  position. 

Mary  was  reticent.  Just  once  she  opens  the 
floodgates  of  her  thoughts  in  the  winged  words 
of  the  brief  but  majestic  Magnificat.  After 
the  birth  of  her  Holy  Son  we  scarcely  hear 
her  speak. 

The  Shepherds  come  to  Bethlehem  with  their 
wondrous  story  of  the  heavenly  vision,  and 
everybody's  tongue  is  loosed  in  talk.  But 
Mary  kept  these  things  and  pondered  them  in 
her  heart.  To  her  "  these  things  "  were  too 
great  for  talk.  They  made  her  silent  in  the 
thoughtful  dignity  of  a  holy  reserve. 

Hers  was  a  magnificently  difficult  position, — 

^3  [   193  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

mother  of  Him  who  was  the  Christ  of  God 
and  King  of  Mankind,  yet  utterly  destitute 
of  all  the  earthly  trappings  which  have  always 
seemed  necessities  for  royalty. 

It  is  not  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to 
sustain  the  dignity  of  high  station  with  all  the 
advantage  of  abounding  wealth  and  acknowl- 
edged social  position  ;  but  only  souls  of  finest 
temper  can  sustain  and  adorn  lofty  station 
amid  deprivation. 

Yes  !  Mary  was  a  peasant  woman.  She  lived 
in  a  poor  little  house,  destitute  of  almost  every- 
thing that  we  would  call  comfort.  Her  earthly 
husband  was  the  village  carpenter.  Doubtless 
she  did  her  own  housework  and  cared  for  her 
baby  with  never  a  nurse  or  servant  to  help 
her. 

But  she  was  a  peasant  woman  by  accident, 
by  force  of  cruel  circumstances.  By  birth  she 
was  of  the  blood  royal,  and  by  nature  and  the 
grace  of  God  she  was  queenly  in  soul,  endowed 
with  a  character  suited  to  her  high  degree. 

We  gaze  with  wondering  pity  upon  the 
manger  at  Bethlehem  and  the  poor  cottage  at 

[  194] 


MARY    THE    BLESSED 

Nazareth.  But  to  Mary  I  believe  these  things 
were  only  incidents  of  small  moment.  Not 
complaint  against  her  present  deprivations,  but 
indignation  because  the  rights  of  her  race  are 
usurped  by  the  rich  and  mighty  is  the  note 
which  sounds  in  the  invective  of  the  Magnifi- 
cat, and  the  silences  of  Mary  are  those  of  a 
soul  detached  from  the  petty  considerations  of 
earthly  condition.  It  was  enough  for  her  that 
God  Almighty,  her  King  and  the  Lord  of  her 
heart,  had  made  her  the  mother  of  His  Son. 
That  overtopped  all  else.  She  knew  and  she 
exulted  in  the  prophetic  knowledge  that  thereby 
the  ages  would  prove  how  He  scattered  the 
proud  in  the  imagination  of  their  hearts  and 
put  down  the  earthly  mighty  from  their  seats. 
Her  soul  was  fed  with  heavenly  food,  and  she 
could  look  down  calmly  upon  bloody  Herods 
and  corrupt  High  Priests. 

If  Mary  could  have  stepped  from  her  hum- 
ble home  in  Nazareth  in  her  peasant  garb 
into  the  midst  of  the  royal  court,  or  into 
some  proudly  fashionable  circle,  would  she 
have  cringed  with  shame  and  embarrassment  ? 

[  195  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Nay  !  I  believe  she  would  have  stood,  reticent, 
reserved,  but  unabashed,  unmindful  of  her  poor 
clothes  or  her  lowly  social  position,  with  lofty 
unconsciousness  of  worldly  accidents  exhal- 
ing from  her  noble  self  an  innate,  queenly 
dignity  that  would  have  compelled  profound 
respect. 

After  the  Magnificat  we  hear  no  faintest 
shadow  of  complaint  of  her  earthly  condition 
from  Mary.  To  care  for  her  Blessed  Child 
with  her  own  hands  amid  earthly  deprivations 
was,  for  her,  no  hardship  but  the  highest  of  all 
holy  employment. 

Mary  is  the  type  and  the  flower  of  sacred 
motherhood. 

How  much  of  the  character  of  Jesus  was 
derived  from  His  mother?  His  human  nature 
comes  from  her.  He  is  our  Brother  because 
He  is  the  Son  of  Mary.  Great  men  have 
usually  had  great  mothers.  Was  Jesus  an 
exception  ?     We  cannot  think  so. 

The  Jews  had  high  ideas  of  the  importance 
of  the  mother's  place  in  the  teaching  of  chil- 
dren.     Mary  would  surely  not  fall  below  these 

[196] 


MARY    THE    BLESSED 

ideals ;  and  the  earliest  and  therefore  most 
vital  lessons  of  Jesus  were  learned  at  her  knee. 
It  is  the  received  opinion  that  Joseph  died 
while  Jesus  was  yet  a  boy.  Much  of  the 
father's  duty  in  teaching  the  Scripture  must 
have  fallen  upon  Mary.  Did  you  ever  notice 
Jesus'  familiarity  with  the  Psalms  of  David, 
and  the  mingled  reverence  and  exultation  with 
which  He  uses  them  ? 

For  thirty  years  Jesus  was  His  mother's 
Son,  dwelling  with  her  for  His  chief,  almost 
His  only  near  companion. 

And  it  is  possible  to  trace  characteristics  of 
His  mother  in  Jesus.  There  was  the  same 
quiet,  almost  stern  dignity ;  the  same  deep, 
meditative  though tfulness  ;  even  the  reticence 
of  Mary  is  not  absent  in  the  character  of  Jesus. 
We  do  not  so  readily  realize  this  because  we 
are  so  enchained  with  His  speech.  But  did 
you  ever  notice  the  moments  when  men  try  to 
make  Him  talk  and  He  answers  not  a  word, 
or  the  way  in  which  He  disdains  to  satisfy 
curiosity,  or  the  sternness  with  which  He 
silences  impertinence  ? 

[  197  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

If  Jesus  can  be  said  to  owe  anything  to  any 
one  on  earth  in  the  moulding  of  His  character, 
then  it  is  to  His  mother. 

Mary  was  a  noble  woman ;  but  out  of  the 
very  loftiness  of  her  nature  and  out  of  the 
greatness  of  the  place  into  which  God  had 
called  her,  a  sorrow  came  which  in  the  depths 
of  its  pathos  sets  her  apart  from  all  other 
mothers. 

When  JesuSj  an  infant  of  eight  days,  was 
presented  in  the  Temple  with  the  sacrifice 
required  by  the  law,  old  Simeon,  the  just  and 
devout  man,  took  the  Child  in  his  arms  and 
blessed  him,  and  then  said  to  Mary  :  "  Behold, 
this  child  is  set  for  the  fall  and  rising  again  of 
many  in  Israel,  and  for  a  sign  that  shall  be 
spoken  against.  Yea,  and  a  sword  shall  pierce 
through  thine  own  soul  also.*' 

The  moment  when  most  evidently  and  most 
deeply  the  sword  pierced  the  soul  of  Mary  has 
been  seized  by  the  unknown  writer  of  one  of 
the  greatest  and  the  most  poignant  of  Christian 
hymns,  the  "  Stabat  Mater,'*  — 

[198] 


MARY    THE    BLESSED 

"  At  the  Cross  her  station  keeping 
Stood  the  mournful  mother  weeping, 

Close  to  Jesus  at  the  last. 
Through  her  soul  of  joy  bereaved, 
Bowed  with  anguish,  sorely  grieved. 

Now  at  length  the  sword  hath  passed." 

But,  in  truth,  the  sword  began  to  enter 
Mary's  soul  long  before  the  Cross  was  reached. 
Very  early  in  the  life  of  Jesus  she  was  com- 
pelled to  understand  that  this  Child  of  hers 
had  in  Him  a  nature  which  set  Him  apart 
from  His  mother. 

When,  after  anxious  search  Jesus,  the  boy 
of  only  twelve  years  is  found  in  the  Temple 
listening  to  the  reverend  doctors  and  asking 
them  questions,  the  mother's  heart  speaks  as 
Mary  says,  "  Son,  why  hast  thou  dealt  thus 
with  us  ?  Behold  thy  father  and  I  have  sought 
thee  sorrowing  !  "  The  mother's  heart  speaks, 
but  it  speaks  in  Mary's  character  with  no 
hysterical  gush,  with  dignified,  almost  stern 
rebuke.  And  one  word  in  her  rebuke  brings 
startling  reproof  in  answer  from  her  Son  : 
"  How  is  it  that  ye  sought  me  ?     Wist  ye  not 

[  199  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

that  I  must  be  about  my  Father's  business  ?  '* 
Such  a  woman  as  Mary  could  make  no  reply 
to  such  an  answer ;  but  we  are  told  that  "  His 
mother  kept  these  things  in  her  heart.'* 

At  Cana  of  Galilee  the  proud  reticence  of 
Mary's  compressed  utterance  suggests  not  so 
much  a  prayer  as  a  command,  "They  have 
no  wine  ! "  We  can  almost  see  her  thought, 
which  seems  to  say,  "  It  is  for  you  to  supply 
the  want."  The  reply  of  Jesus  is  a  reminder 
of  the  difference  and  the  distance  made  by 
His  Divine  mission  between  Himself  and 
His  dearly  loved  mother. 

Again  we  see  Mary,  though  we  do  not 
hear  her  speak  —  at  least,  not  in  words  of  her 
own.  In  the  midst  of  the  teaching  of  Jesus, 
at  a  critical  moment  of  His  controversy  with 
Scribes  and  Pharisees  His  mother  and  His 
brethren,  alarmed  for  His  safety,  imagining 
Him  beside  Himself,  try  to  take  Him  away 
from  His  work.  They  sent  a  message  to 
Him  through  the  crowd,  saying,  "  Thy  mother 
and  Thy  brethren  stand  without  desiring  to 
speak  with  Thee."     And  once  again,  a  most 

[  200  ] 


MARY    THE    BLESSED 

pathetic,  a  heart-broken  and  heart-breaking 
rebuke  comes  from  Jesus :  "  Who  are  my 
mother  and  my  brethren  ?  For  whosoever 
shall  do  the  will  of  my  Father  which  is  in 
heaven,  the  same  is  my  mother  and  my  sister 
and  my  brother  !  " 

There  are  women  who  take  a  weak  pride, 
often  a  garrulous  pride,  in  the  superiority  of 
their  sons,  and  are  only  pleased  when  they 
are  ruled  or  even  rebuked  by  their  children. 
Mary  was  not  in  this  class.  She  felt  herself 
the  mother  of  the  Messiah,  the  Queen 
Mother.  With  her  strong  character  it  was 
not  easy  to  take  a  submissive  place  beneath 
Him  and  yield  her  place  beside  Him.  And 
reserved,  reticent  and  thoughtful  natures  like 
hers  crave  the  confidence,  even  more  than  the 
submission  of  those  nearest  them.  The  sense 
of  separation  between  her  soul  and  the  soul  of 
her  Holy  Son  was  a  sharp  and  enduring  pang. 
Moreover,  with  her  clear  and  penetrating  vision 
she  must  have  seen  more  clearly  than  others 
saw,  that  He  was  treading  a  road  that  could 
lead  only  to  sacrifice.     In  the  very  blessedness 

[  201  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

of  the  life  of  her  Son  there  was  keenest  agony 
for  her  mother's  heart ! 

But  the  nobility  of  Mary's  character  is  seen 
in  the  silent  dignity,  the  patient  humility  and 
lofty,  self-effacing  loyalty  with  which  she  ac- 
cepted the  blessing  and  the  burden  of  her 
unique  and  trying  position.  There  is  a  pathos 
in  the  very  greatness  of  this  great  mother 
which  must  pierce  our  souls  in  sympathy  when 
we  think  of  her.  I  almost  think  the  "  Stabat 
Mater "  fails  to  picture  Mary  truly  when  it 
tells  of  her  weeping  and  groaning  beside  the 
Cross.  No  weak  woman  could  have  stood 
as  she  stood  beneath  that  awful  Cross.  It 
would  seem  truer  to  think  of  her  as  tearless 
in  the  depth  of  her  grief.  And  the  most 
touching  incident  of  the  Cross  is  when  the 
dying  Christ  speaks  to  His  mother  and  com- 
mends her  to  the  care  of  His  beloved  disci- 
ple John,  who  doubtless  led  her  away  at 
once. 

We  have  a  final  glimpse  of  Mary  after  the 
Resurrection  of  Jesus.  She  appears  in  the 
Upper  Room  with  the  other  holy  women  and 

[   202  ] 


MARY    THE    BLESSED 

the  disciples  and  brethren  of  Jesus.  We  see 
her,  not  above,  but  in  the  midst  of  the  saints 
as  one  of  them  ;  and  there  the  gospel  history 
leaves  her. 

We  may  not  give  her  a  higher  place,  but  let 
us  at  least  give  her  that  which  is  her  own. 
Do  not  we  Protestants  too  easily  fall  into  ex- 
cess of  protestation  when  Mary's  name  is 
mentioned  ? 

We  may  not  worship  her ;  and  yet  is  not 
a  unique  reverence  due  her  ?  For  the  sake 
of  her  Holy  Son;  for  her  own  sake,  because 
of  her  noble  character,  because  Holy  Mother- 
hood is  crowned  in  Mary,  all  generations 
shall  call  her  Blessed. 


[  203  ] 


I   WILL    DECLARE   THY   NAME 


I  will  declare  Thy  name  unto  my  brethren  :   in 
the  midst  of  the  congregation  will  I  praise  Thee. 

Psalm  xxii.  22. 


I   WILL    DECLARE   THY   NAME 

Just  what  particular  sorrows  of  his  own  or 
sufferings  of  his  nation  the  writer  of  this 
Psalm  attempted  to  describe,  we  are  not  told 
and  we  can  never  know.  But  for  us  this 
matters  nothing ;  for  us  the  Twenty-second 
Psalm  speaks  with  only  one  voice,  the  voice 
of  Jesus  upon  the  Cross.  It  is  a  wonderful 
Psalm.  It  does  not  profess  to  be  prophecy, 
and  yet  it  presents  an  amazingly  realistic  pict- 
ure of  that  crucifixion  of  Messiah  which  took 
place  centuries  after  it  was  written.  It  is  more 
than  description  ;  it  is  the  awful  expression  of 
the  experience  of  the  sufferer.  The  very  first 
words  of  the  Psalm  are  the  cry  of  Jesus  upon 
the  Cross :  "  My  God,  My  God,  why  hast 
Thou  forsaken  me !  "  And  we  hear  the  suf- 
ferer say :  "  They  pierced  my  hands  and  my 
feet  .  .  .  they  part  my  garments  among  them, 
and  cast  lots  upon  my  vesture  !  ** 

[  207  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

No  wonder  John  and  the  other  Evangelists 
who  saw  what  took  place  on  Calvary,  said : 
"  This  was  done  that  the  scripture  might  be 
fulfilled." 

More  and  more  impressive  this  Psalm  be- 
comes as  we  study  it.  For  example,  in  those 
other  Psalms  where  we  hear  as  in  this  one, 
the  cry  of  a  sufferer,  there  is  always  also  the 
confession  of  personal  sin.  Nothing  of  the 
sort  can  be  found  here.  This  sufferer  cries 
to  God  for  strength,  for  help,  but  not  for 
pardon.  What  he  endures  is  the  result  of 
the  iniquity  of  others,  and  not  of  his  own. 
This  is  the  sinless  Christ  who  cries,  "  My 
God,  My  God,  why  hast  Thou  forsaken  me  ! " 

Another  significant  fact  is  the  triumphant 
close  of  this  sufferer^s  song.  In  the  very 
midst  of  his  agony  he  suddenly  perceives  that 
God  to  whom  he  cries  has  heard  him  and 
has  not  forsaken  him.  A  vision  of  the  future 
glows  before  his  dying  eyes.  He  sees  how 
generations  yet  unborn  shall  be  blessed  by  his 
sacrifice :  "  All  the  ends  of  the  world  shall 
remember  and  turn  unto  the   Lord :   and  all 

[  208  ] 


I    WILL    DECLARE    THY    NAME 

the  kindreds  of  the  nations  shall  worship  be- 
fore Thee.  .  .  .  They  shall  come,  and  shall 
declare  His  righteousness  unto  a  people  that 
shall  be  born,  that  He  hath  done  this/*  We 
might  well  give  this  Psalm  the  title  of  "  Cross 
and  Crown." 

But  just  where  the  tone  of  the  song  changes, 
where  the  plaint  of  agony  is  silenced  by  the 
vision  of  victory,  we  hear  an  exclamation  which 
seems  to  spring  to  his  lips  from  a  revelation 
which  has  flashed  into  the  mind  of  the  suf- 
ferer. He  sees  that  his  suffering  is  not  per- 
sonal aflliction ;  he  beholds  its  purpose.  In 
what  he  endures  and  in  its  result  he  is  declar- 
ing God's  name :  "  I  will  declare  Thy  Name 
unto  my  brethren  :  in  the  midst  of  the  con- 
gregation will  I  praise  Thee  !  '*  And  is  not 
this  verily  the  largest  meaning  of  the  Cross 
of  Jesus  ? 

According  to  our  point  of  view  we  may  see 
various  things  in  the  Cross.  We  may  see  the 
constancy  and  courage  of  the  greatest  of  all 
martyrdoms ;  we  may  see  the  highest  example 
of  the  most  perfect  love ;  we  may  see  the  final 
14  [  209  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

atonement  for  human  sin.  But  above  all  else, 
including  all  else,  we  must  see  that  the  Christ 
upon  the  Cross  declares  the  Name  and  the 
Nature  of  the  Holy  One.  And  if  you  would 
know  how  large  a  meaning  is  here,  you  must 
turn  to  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  in  the 
second  chapter,  where  this  Psalm  is  quoted, 
and  read  :  "  .  .  .  We  see  Jesus  .  .  .  because 
of  the  suffering  of  death  crowned  with  glory 
and  honour,  that  He  by  the  grace  of  God 
should  taste  death  for  every  man.  For  it 
became  Him,  for  whom  are  all  things,  and 
through  whom  are  all  things,  in  bringing  many 
sons  unto  glory,  to  make  the  Captain  of  their 
salvation  perfect  through  sufferings  ...  for 
which  cause  he  is  not  ashamed  to  call  them 
'  brethren,'  saying, 

" '  I  will  declare  Thy  name  unto  my 
brethren  : 

"'In  the  midst  of  the  congregation  will  I 
sing  Thy  praise.'  " 

And  always,  when  we  gaze  upon  that  Cross, 
we  shall  see  that  round  about  and  above  it 
shines  a  light  which  never  was  on  land  or  sea, 

[   210  ] 


I    WILL    DECLARE    THY    NAME 

a  glory  not  of  this  world,  a  revelation  of  the 
name  and  nature  of  the  Ever  Living  and  Holy 
God. 

Not  without  reason  does  Christendom  ob- 
serve, not  only  the  day  of  Christ's  death,  but 
the  last  week  of  His  life  on  earth,  because  the 
full  meaning  of  His  sacrifice,  the  way  in  which 
His  Cross  declares  God's  Name  begins  to  ap- 
pear with  the  entry  of  Jesus  into  Jerusalem. 
Up  to  that  moment  we  have  seen  Him  as  the 
lowly  prophet  of  Nazareth,  but  now  God's 
chosen  King  is  about  to  be  proclaimed. 

Look  at  that  procession  winding  down  the 
slopes  of  Olivet !  See  the  people  spreading 
their  garments  on  the  ground  before  Jesus, 
waving  palm  branches  in  prophetic  token  of 
victory.      Hear  their  cry  : 

"Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David!" 

"  Blessed  be  the  King  that  cometh  in  the 
Name   of  the   Lord  !  " 

An  idealizing  religious  sentiment  has,  for 
us,  obscured  the  real  meaning  of  that  moment. 
But  those  people  knew,  or  thought  they  knew, 
precisely    what   they   were    doing.     To    them 

[211] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

the  ancient  prophecies  were  more  than  poeti- 
cal figures  of  speech ;  they  were  sure  promises 
bearing  in  their  glowing  words  not  only  re- 
ligious but  also  political  assurances.  More- 
over, the  signs  of  the  times  seemed  to  point 
to  a  speedy  fulfilment  of  the  promise  of 
Messiah's  coming;  and  when  Jesus  appeared 
at  Bethany  the  wavering  expectations  awak- 
ened by  His  career  suddenly  crystallized. 
The  man  and  the  hour  seemed  to  have  met. 
All  Israel  was  gathering  in  vast  multitude 
for  the  Passover  feast,  and  here  was  He  who 
could  feed  five  thousand  with  five  loaves  and 
two  fishes,  —  yea,  and  raise  Lazarus  from  his 
grave.  The  King,  the  Son  of  David,  had 
come.  His  kingdom  must  be  proclaimed. 
With  shouts  of  "  Hosanna "  they  escorted 
Him  toward  the  gates  of  the  Holy  City. 

Within  the  city,  too,  there  was  excitement. 
They  saw  the  procession.  They  said,  "  Who 
is  this?  "  The  people  said  it;  the  priests  and 
rulers  said  it.  And  when  the  answer  came, 
"  This  is  Jesus ! "  some  feared,  and  others 
hoped  he  would  put  forth  His  mighty  power 

[212] 


I    WILL    DECLARE    THY    NAME 

and  sweep  away  the  rule  of  priests  and  scribes 
and  Romans  and  reign  King  over  them  all. 

But  Jesus! — what  did  it  mean  to  Him? 
Not  what  either  rulers  or  multitude  imagined. 
No  visions  of  earthly  glory  shone  before  His 
eyes.  He  saw  clearly  what  the  end  would  be. 
The  shadow  of  the  Cross  which  had  followed 
Him  so  long,  now  loomed  up  near  and  awful. 
Yet  none  the  less  He  knew  Himself  the  King. 
Neither  in  weakness  nor  by  any  deceit  did  He 
permit  the  cry  of  "  Hosanna  to  the  Son  of 
David  !  "  He  knew  that  He  was  the  son  of 
David,  and  heir  to  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  ; 
yea,  God's  anointed  one,  the  Christ.  It  was 
right  He  should  be  proclaimed  ;  the  homage 
they  were  giving  was  but  His  due. 

When  the  Pharisees  asked  Him  to  rebuke 
the  enthusiasm  of  His  disciples,  He  answered : 

"  I  tell  you  that  if  these  should  hold  their 
peace,  the  stones  would  immediately  cry  out !  " 
not  only  Israel,  but  the  world,  yea,  the  very 
ground  beneath  His  feet,  cried  out  for  earth's 
coming  King. 

But  His  kingdom  was  utterly  different  from 
[213] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

any  that  men  had  ever  conceived — yes,  different 
from  any  kingdom  men  have  even  yet  learned 
to  understand.  It  was  a  kingdom  which  de- 
clared God's  name  and  nature  ;  a  kingdom  of 
heavenly  truth  and  everlasting  righteousness 
and  infinite  love.  All  the  more,  therefore, 
was  it  needful  that  He  should  go  into  Jeru- 
salem and  toward  His  cross  with  the  shouts 
of"  Hosanna  !  "  and  the  great  word,  "  Son  of 
David!  "  echoing  from  the  multitude.  Israel 
must  know,  the  world  must  kr^ow,  who  this  is 
to  whom  they  are  about  to  give  a  Crown  of 
Thorns  and  a  Cross. 

The  words  and  deeds  of  Jesus  in  this  last 
week  of  His  earthly  life  are  in  striking  contrast 
to  the  things  He  said  and  did  before.  There 
is  no  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  no  teaching  of 
the  principles  of  love  and  righteousness,  nor 
any  parables  like  that  of  The  Sower  and  the 
Seed.  There  is,  instead,  the  fearful  parable  of 
The  Vineyard,  and  that  of  The  King's  Son, 
and  of  The  Ten  Virgins,  and  the  Final 
Judgment  scene.  There  is  the  terrible  de- 
nunciation  of  the   Pharisees,   and   the  solemn 

[214] 


I    WILL    DECLARE    THY    NAME 

prediction  of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  and 
the  prophecy  of  His  own  Second  Coming. 
The  voice  of  Jesus  is  no  longer  that  of  a 
teacher ;  it  is  the  voice  of  a  king  sitting  in 
judgment,  declaring  God*s  awful  name  and 
His  sure  justice.  Jesus  was  crucified  because 
He  was  the  King,  God's  King,  God's  Christ. 
The  Passover  pilgrims  were  enraged  because 
He  would  not  proclaim  a  political  revolution 
such  as  they  desired  and  hoped  for.  Scribes 
and  priests  could  not  endure  the  thought  of  a 
king  who  was  from  God,  who  would  not  con- 
sult or  be  ruled  by  them,  who  demanded  purity 
and  righteousness  and  cast  out  the  money- 
changers from  God's  House.  The  Romans 
had  no  use  for  a  king  who  came  in  any  other 
way  than  with  the  power  of  the  mailed  fist. 

"Away  with  Him!"  "Crucify  Him!" 
All  of  them  either  joined  in  that  cry  or  con- 
sented to  it.  Human  pride,  human  greed, 
human  selfishness,  yea,  human  sin,  mingled  in 
that  fearful  cry.  All  the  hatred  of  God's 
righteousness,  all  the  contempt  for  His  Holi- 
ness  and   His   spirituality,   all  the   earthliness 

[215] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

and  meanness  and  cruelty,  all  the  iniquity  that 
is  in  man,  gave  tongue  in  that  cry. 

"  Shall  I  crucify  your  king  ?  '*  said  Pilate. 
And  they  answered,  "  We  have  no  king  but 
Caesar ! " 

So  this  world  has  ever  said.  The  only 
kingship  the  world  confesses  is  the  kingship 
of  brute  force  or  the  kingship  of  material  pos- 
sessions,—  money  or  power;  something  the 
flesh  can  see  and  touch  and  handle,  and  some- 
thing the  flesh  must  bow  down  to.  Even  to- 
day men  ask  in  derision,  "  Where  is  your 
unseen  God  ?  what  can  he  do  ?  '*  Jesus  came 
declaring  God's  name,  and  the  world  cried, 
"  Crucify   Him  !  " 

Verily  they  knew  not  what  they  did ;  for 
they  were  enthroning  God's  Christ !  The 
iniquity  of  us  all  is  heaped  upon  Him,  and 
He  bears  it,  not  because  He  must,  but  be- 
cause He  wills  to  bear  it,  —  not  in  anger,  but 
in  Divine  love.  He  is  declaring  God's  name; 
He  suffers  for  our  sin ;  He  is  the  perfect 
sacrifice. 

Perhaps  our  first  thought  of  the  Cross  is 
[216] 


I    WILL    DECLARE    THY    NAME 

the  pity  of  it,  the  sorrow  of  it,  the  dreadful 
suffering  of  its  victim.  And  there  is  little 
danger  that  we  shall  make  too  much  of  this. 
On  the  contrary,  the  Cross  appears  in  such  a 
distant  past ;  its  result  has  so  greatly  glorified 
the  Cross,  that  we  have  lost  sight  of  its  real 
and  unspeakable  horror.  For  the  mere  bodily 
pain  of  it,  burning  at  the  stake  would  be,  in 
comparison,  a  quick  and  easy  death.  But  that 
was  not  all.  No  punishment  ever  invented  by 
the  fiendishness  of  man  was  so  cruel,  and  none 
so  inhuman  in  what  it  stood  for. 

Crucifixion  declared  the  crucified  unworthy 
of  the  name  of  man.  Crucifixion  was  a  dog's 
death  ;  the  infliction  of  it  was  the  brutal  ex- 
pression of  the  feeling  that  the  masses  of  man- 
kind were  as  dirt  beneath  the  feet  of  the 
favored  few,  —  yea,  beneath  even  the  poor 
meed  of  pity.  A  Roman  citizen,  no  matter 
what  his  crime,  could  not  be  crucified.  Only 
slaves  —  and  the  world  of  that  day  was  full 
of  slaves  —  or  barbarians,  only  the  lowest 
criminals  of  the  common  herd  could  be  cruci- 
fied.    And  yet  crucifixion  was  a  fearfully  com- 

[217] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

mon  punishment.  "  The  shame  of  the  Cross  " 
was  only  too  well  known  to  people  of  that 
day.  Can  you  imagine  anything  more  fright- 
ful than  the  prospect  of  such  a  death  to  such  a 
person  as  Jesus? 

Yet  He  faced  it,  not  only  bravely  but  wil- 
lingly, and  His  acceptance  of  this  horrible 
death  was  in  itself  a  declaration  of  God's  name 
to  his  brethren,  because  it  was  such  an  accept- 
ance of  the  burden  of  human  brotherhood  as 
never  before  or  since  has  been  witnessed  in  this 
world. 

Has  human  pride,  in  its  daring  yet  despica- 
ble sin,  mounted  so  high  that  it  denies  human 
kinship  with  the  lowly,  the  oppressed,  the  de- 
graded, and  treads  them  under  foot,  and  shuts 
all  heart  of  compassion,  and  condemns  these 
repudiated  brethren  to  a  pitiless  and  inhuman 
death  ? 

Have  men  denied  their  fellow-men,  and  thus 
denied  their  Father,  God? 

Then  our  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  Heavenly 
Father,  the  stainless  man  in  whom  even  base 
Pilate   could   find   no   fault  at   all,   takes    His 

[218] 


I    WILL    DECLARE    THY    NAME 

place  alongside  the  helpless  and  despised, — 
yea,  even  in  that  dog's  death  by  which  men 
most  cruelly  showed  their  contempt  for  brother 
men  !  Along  with  the  slave,  the  wretched, 
the  outcast.  He  goes  with  them  to  the  Cross, 
and  there  proclaims  Himself  their  brother  and 
thus  declares  God*s  Name  ! 

A  new  sacredness  of  human  life  has  been 
felt  in  the  world,  a  new  idea  of  human  rights 
has  dawned  before  the  eyes  of  men  since  that 
moment  when  the  Cross  of  Jesus  rose  on  high 
with  its  new  vision  of  God  and  of  the  love 
of  the  Heavenly   Father  for  mankind. 

But  let  no  one  imagine  that  this  exhausts 
the  meaning  of  the  Cross  of  Jesus.  The  mes- 
sage of  that  Cross  comes  not  to  the  downtrod- 
den only ;  but  to  every  one  of  us,  to  each 
human  soul  the  Cross  declares  God's  Name 
with  awful  intimacy. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  incidents  of 
the  Crucifixion  is  that  of  the  Dying  Thief 
As  if  to  accentuate  the  shame  of  the  Cross 
Jesus  was  not  permitted  to  suffer  alone.  He 
was  numbered  with  the  transgressors,  —  cruci- 

[219] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

fied  between  two  robbers.  Doubtless  they  had 
belonged  to  one  of  those  cut-throat  bands 
which  infested  such  highways  as  that  leading 
from  Jerusalem  down  to  Jericho.  Both  were 
desperate  characters,  but  there  was  a  difference 
between  these  two  companions  of  the  suffering 
Christ.  One  of  them  in  his  agony  reviled 
Jesus.  But  the  other,  answering,  rebuked 
him  saying,  "  Dost  thou  not  fear  God,  seeing 
thou  art  in  the  same  condemnation.  And  we 
indeed  justly  :  for  we  receive  the  due  reward 
of  our  deeds."  Think  of  that  man  enduring 
the  slow,  the  frightful,  the  deadly  torture  of 
the  cross,  yet  confessing,  "  We  indeed  justly  : 
this  is  the  due  reward  of  my  deeds."  Think 
what  those  deeds  must  have  been  as  they  rose 
before  his  memory  in  his  dying  hour,  and 
then  think  of  the  honesty  of  that  confession  ! 
Now  turn  to  priests  and  people  crowding 
about  the  suffering  Christ  bleeding  from  un- 
just scourging,  crowned  in  cruel  mockery  with 
thorns  as  He  stands  before  Pilate*s  judgment 
seat.  Hear  them  cry,  "Away  with  Him!" 
"Crucify  Him!"     Set  them  side  by  side, — 

[   220  ] 


I    WILL    DECLARE    THY    NAME 

people  and  priests  on  the  one  hand,  the  dying 
robber  on  the  other, — set  them  before  a  higher 
Judgment  Seat  than  that  of  Pilate,  and  answer. 
Which  will  be  accounted  the  worst?  Whose 
sin  will  appear  the  deepest  ? 

But  remember,  also,  in  that  crowd  crying, 
"  Crucify  Him ! "  there  were  men  whose 
every-day  life  had  been  up  to  that  moment 
as  good  as  yours  or  mine,  —  men  who  had 
never  done  anything  disgraceful,  who  paid 
their  debts  and  were  honest,  kind,  and  chari- 
table. And  by  their  sin  the  sinless  Christ 
was  numbered  with  the  transgressors,  nailed 
to  the  Cross  ! 

It  was  human  nature,  —  the  nature  that  is 
in  you  and  me,  with  its  dark  possibilities  of 
evil ;  it  was  human  nature  truly  confessed  by 
the  dying  robber,  truly  uncovered  by  consci- 
entious Israelites  crying,  "  Crucify  Him  !  "  it 
was  the  Sin  which  is  in  us  all  that  brought 
Jesus  to  His  Cross  ! 

There  is  an  awful  meaning  in  that  Cross. 
The  lifted  up  Son  of  Man,  the  crucified  Son 
of  God,  by  His  blood  and  suffering  uncovers 

[  221   ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

the  blackest  depths  of  human  sin  and  brings 
our  inner  selves  openly  before  the  white  light 
of  Eternal  Righteousness. 

And  yet  most  wonderfully  this  very  judg- 
ment becomes  the  most  convincing  of  all  proof 
of  the  love  of  God  for  men. 

He  who  suffers  on  the  Cross  is  more  than 
a  martyr.  The  judgment  which,  silently  yet 
with  awful  clearness  He  declares,  falls  not  on 
those  who  deserve  it  but  upon  Himself,  the 
willing  victim.  The  stainless  Jesus,  the  Lamb 
of  God,  the  perfect  sacrifice,  bears  our  sins  in 
His  own  body  on  the  tree.  The  iniquity  of 
us  all  was  laid  upon  Him,  and  by  His  stripes 
we  are  healed. 

We  sometimes  say,  and  say  it  coldly,  in  con- 
ventional religious  phrase,  "Jesus  died  for  us." 
But  remember;  recall  that  Cross  as  it  really 
was.  What  your  Christ  suffered  there,  was 
it  something  cheap  ?  What  He  endured  for 
you,  was  it  anything  easy  ?  Think  of  the 
dreadful  cost  of  the  Cross  to  the  Sinless  Jesus 
—  yes,  and  to  God  His  Father;  remember 
how  God's  Name  is  declared  on  that  Cross, 

[   222  ] 


I    WILL    DECLARE    THY    NAME 

and  how  the  very  sin  in  you  is  responsible  for 
the  suffering  of  the  Christ ;  think  of  the  judg- 
ment declared  and  of  the  judgment  endured 
there  by  God*s  only  begotten  and  well-beloved 
Son ;  think  of  the  love  that  could  give  that 
Son  for  your  salvation  ! 

And  then  say  no  more,  "  Jesus  died  for 
us,"  but  with  honest  confession,  like  that  of 
the  dying  robber,  say,  "Jesus  died  for  me T^ 


[  223  ] 


THE    RESURRECTION   AND    THE    LIFE 


Jesus  said  unto  her,  I  am  the  Resurrection  and 
the  Life.  — John  xi.  25. 


THE    RESURRECTION   AND    THE   LIFE 

What  a  daring  word  ! 

Remember  who  said  it ;  recall  His  circum- 
stances. He  is  the  rejected  Christ.  In  peril 
of  His  life  He  has  returned  from  the  hither 
side  of  Jordan  into  the  land  of  the  Jews,  who 
seek  to  kill  Him.  At  the  call  of  Mary  and 
Martha,  His  beloved  friends.  He  has  come, — 
and  apparently  too  late ;  for  Lazarus  is  dead. 
He  stands  before  that  helpless,  hopeless  grief 
so  fearfully  common,  —  the  grief  we  all  have  to 
meet,  before  which  we  are  dumb.  The  dead 
body  of  the  brother  of  His  friends  —  yea,  the 
body  of  His  own  friend  —  has  been  committed 
to  the  tomb  and  covered  with  the  great  stone. 
The  tomb  is  in  the  midst  of  hundreds  of  other 
tombs,  a  single  instance  amid  myriads  which 
prove  death's  power  and  man's  helpless  mortal- 
ity ;  and  He  says,  "  I  am  the  Resurrection  and 
the  Life!" 

[  227  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Scarcely  less  daring  is  the  faith  witnessed  on 
every  Easter  morning  by  thousands  of  believers 
in  Jesus.  As  the  sun  lights  up  each  continent 
and  island,  in  every  language  of  every  race  on 
earth,  they  confess  Him  who  nineteen  hundred 
years  ago  declared,  "  I  am  the  Resurrection 
and  the   Life  !  " 

So  we  confess  Him,  and  joyfully  acclaim  His 
word  as  truth.  Through  all  these  centuries,  on 
every  morning  of  every  first  day  of  the  week, 
and  specially  on  the  Easter  morning,  this  faith 
has  been  proclaimed. 

And  it  has  been  a  prolific  faith.  At  first  a 
little  band,  the  personal  friends  and  followers 
of  Jesus,  held  it,  preached  it,  and  the  faith 
spread  far  and  wide.  It  revolutionized  the 
world  ;  it  changed  men's  ideas  of  life  and  of 
death  ;  it  placed  life  above  death  ;  it  gave  life 
the  conquering,  the  victorious  place. 

Mightily  the  faith  has  grown.  From  the 
Syrian  hills,  like  a  miraculous  sunrise  it  has 
spread  westward  over  land  and  sea,  and  from 
the  farthest  west  it  has  reached  out  again  toward 
the  Orient  till  it  has  encircled  the  world.     Em- 

[  228  ] 


THE    RESURRECTION    AND    THE    LIFE 

pires  have  fallen,  new  civilizations  have  arisen, 
knowledge  has  broadened  and  deepened  ;  but 
through  all  changes  this  one  Voice  has  been 
heard  saying,  "  I  am  the  Resurrection  and  the 
Life ! "  The  faith  is  sublime,  not  in  itself 
alone,  not  only  in  the  astounding  thing  it 
proclaims,  but  in  the  way  in  which  it  has 
triumphed  and  still  triumphs  over  all  ap- 
pearances. 

The  world  goes  on  as  always,  in  its  ever- 
lasting procession  of  changes,  with  its  ceaseless 
succession  of  beginnings  and  endings.  Life,  as 
we  see  it,  as  we  know  it  through  our  bodily 
senses  is  as  short,  as  uncertain  as  ever.  Death 
is  no  less  busy  than  in  the  days  when  Jesus 
stood  beside  the  tomb  of  Lazarus.  The  old 
law  of  decay  and  dissolution  and  earth  to  earth 
and  dust  to  dust  remains.  Men  depart  out 
of  this  life  as  from  the  beginning  they  have 
departed,  and  return  no  more.  No  news  is 
borne  to  our  eyes  or  our  ears  from  the  dark- 
ness of  the  beyond.  To  all  appearance  there 
is  no  beyond.  It  would  seem  the  natural,  the 
common-sense  conclusion  that  life  is  nothing 

[  229  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

more  than  the  little  span  of  existence  which  we 
know  here  on  earth.  The  word  of  Him  who 
says,  "  I  am  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life," 
flies  in  the  face  of  apparently  universal  experi- 
ence and  of  all  most  evident  appearance. 

The  faith  in  that  word  witnessed  through 
nineteen  centuries  can  be  called  nothing  less 
than  sublime,  —  sublime  in  its  steadfastness;  in 
its  ever  increasing  volume  ;  in  its  ever  widening 
and  deepening  growth ;  in  its  hold  upon  men 
of  all  sorts,  from  the  most  ignorant  who  have 
least  beside  appearance  and  experience  to  guide 
them,  up  to  the  most  learned  and  thoughtful 
who  can  best  appreciate  the  force  of  experience 
and  the  reality  which  is  in  appearance. 

In  the  midst  of  a  world  that  lives  by  what  it 
sees  and  can  touch  and  handle,  here  is  a  faith 
that  rises  superior  to  appearance  and  experience, 
and  will  not  be  smothered,  and  does  not  fade, 
but  always  above  the  din  of  the  business  of 
this  present  life  with  its  supreme  concern  for 
the  here  and  the  now,  with  its  anxious  care  for 
the  present  wants  of  perishing  bodies,  in  de- 
fiance   of  the    ever-present    death,    hears    and 

[  230  ] 


THE    RESURRECTION    AND    THE    LIFE 

believes    the    voice    which  says,    "  I     am    the 
Resurrection  and  the  Life." 

And  this  is  the  more  remarkable  because 
the  faith  has  never  been  universally  accepted. 
Always,  from  the  beginning,  men  counted 
shrewd,  wise,  clear-headed,  have  argued  against 
it  the  evident,  easily  understood  argument. 
Against  a  tremendous  inertia  of  the  things  that 
are  seen  and  the  reasoning  so  readily  drawn 
from  them,  the  reasoning  which  lies  upon  the 
surface  of  all  appearance,  this  faith  has  persisted. 
To  one  point  of  light  it  ever  turns,  —  to  the 
stone  rolled  away  from  the  empty  sepulchre 
and  the  living  Presence  of  the  Lord,  who  said, 
"  I  am  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life  !  "  To 
that  glowing  light  faith  ever  turns,  and  rests 
confident  and  unconquerable. 

In  truth,  mankind  has  never  been  satisfied 
with  the  appearances,  and  no  arguments  drawn 
thence  have  ever  brought  content.  From  the 
earliest  beginning  heart  and  flesh  have  cried 
out  for  the  Living  God,  and  humanity  has  felt 
that  some  inheritance  larger  than  any  possi- 
ble to  earthly  experience  is  rightfully  its  own. 

[  231  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Always  men  have  tried  to  pierce  the  shadows 
of  the  beyond  ;  but  always  with  a  half-despairing 
trust,  with  a  painfully  uncertain  hope,  until  He 
came  who  said,  "  I  am  the  Resurrection  and 
the  Life!" 

And  the  hearts  of  men  have  leaped  toward 
Him  and  toward  His  word  because  there  is  in 
it  no  "perhaps," — because  He  leads  toward 
no  wavering  shadow  of  uncertainty,  but  calm, 
clear,  positive  in  its  far-reaching  tone  of 
almighty  power,  they  hear  the  Christ  of  God 
saying,  "  I  am  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life  : 
he  that  believeth  in  Me,  though  he  were  dead, 
yet  shall  he  live :  and  whosoever  liveth  and 
believeth  in   Me  shall  never  die  !  " 

This  word  of  Jesus  is  as  notable  for  what  it 
does  not  say  as  for  what  it  says.  He  does  not 
speak  of  "  another  life,"  nor  of  a  distant  heaven. 
He  is  almost  contemptuous  toward  death. 
His  word  glows  with  the  fire  of  overmastering, 
present,  living,  and  real  life.  He  is  the  Resur- 
rection because  He  is  the  Life.  Death  cannot 
hold  Him  or  His,  because  there  is  in  Him  a 
death-destroying  force  of  life ;  and  whosoever 

[  232  ] 


THE    RESURRECTION    AND    THE    LIFE 

liveth  believing  in  Him  receives  this  conquer- 
ing life  against  which  death  is  helpless. 

I  believe  we  are  wrong  when,  in  the  old 
sense  of  that  much-abused  word,  we  call  the 
resurrection  of  Jesus  ^'a  miracle."  I  believe 
that  His  resurrection  was  natural  —  for  such  a 
Person  as  He — and  that  the  really  wonderful 
thing  in  His  earthly  career  was  His  death. 

Life  is  known  to  us  only  in  fragments.  Life 
is  never  finished ;  it  is  always  a  broken  column. 
And  yet  in  these  fragments  there  is  a  wonderful 
persistence  of  life,  an  unending  series  of  res- 
urrections which  constantly  suggest  what  life 
might  be  in  its  perfection. 

A  life  unbroken  because  perfect  is  something 
we  can  only  imagine,  but  we  do  know  that  the 
force  of  it  would  be  something  beyond  our 
reckoning.  It  would  be  far  easier  to  imagine 
its  possibilities  than  to  fix  its  limits. 

But  is  not  just  this  the  life  which  we  see  in 
the  person  of  Jesus  ?  "  In  Him  was  Life.'' 
"Eternal  life,"  He  calls  it, — not  simply  because 
it  goes  on  forever,  but  because  it  comes  out  of, 
and  is  one  with  the  life  of  the   Eternal  God. 

[  233  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

In  the  full  and  flawlessly  perfect  humanity  of 
Jesus,  the  unbroken  and  limitless  power  of  life 
as  it  comes  fresh  and  untainted  from  the  bosom 
of  the  Father  is  manifested.  He  is  the  "  Light 
of  men,"  who  interprets  to  us  the  power  and 
blessing  of  our  original,  unmarred  birthright. 
Only  by  accommodation  to  the  weak  compre- 
hension of  our  imperfect,  fragmentary  life  can 
the  works  of  Jesus  be  called  "  miracles.'*  He 
called  them  "signs,"  and  they  are  —  if  we  do 
but  use  "  natural  "  in  its  larger  sense  —  the 
natural  outgoings  of  such  a  nature  with  such 
real  life  as  His. 

And  so  the  really  mysterious  thing  in  the 
earthly  career  of  Jesus  was  His  death. 

It  is  significant  that  death  came  to  Him 
by  no  ordinary  process  of  decay  or  dissolution. 
A  young  man,  in  full  flower  of  life.  He  was 
"cut  off  out  of  the  land  of  the  living.*'  It 
is  also  significant  that  He  Himself  says  of 
His  life,  "  No  man  taketh  My  life  from  Me, 
but  I  lay  it  down  of  myself.  I  have  power 
to  lay  it  down,  and  I  have  power  to  take  it 
again." 

[  234] 


THE    RESURRECTION    AND    THE    LIFE 

But  the  reason  for  His  death,  the  purpose 
of  it,  is  one  that  moves  us  to  our  inmost  soul. 
In  fellowship  with  us.  His  brethren ;  in  com- 
munion with  us  who  must  die,  He  tasted 
death  and  bore  our  load  of  sorrow  and  of 
sin. 

The  resurrection  of  Jesus  was  the  reasser- 
tion  of  His  nature.  And  it  was  more.  Res- 
urrection had  to  be  because  there  had  been 
death.  And  as  His  death  was  fellowship 
with  us.  His  resurrection  becomes  our  fel- 
lowship with  Him  in  the  victory  of  conquer- 
ing life.  He  is  the  Resurrection  because 
He  is  the  Life;  and  His  resurrection  is 
not  alone  His,  but  also  ours.  The  resurrec- 
tion of  Jesus  the  Christ  is  the  living,  actual, 
experienced  Gospel  of  Eternal  Life  for  His 
brethren. 

And  that  is  why  we  say  with  mighty  glad- 
ness in  our  hearts,  "  Christ  is  Risen  ! ''  That 
is  why  Easter  is  the  most  profoundly  joyful 
day  in  all  the  year.  It  is  the  memory  of  the 
great,  living,  fulfilled  pledge  of  eternal  life  to 
whosoever  liveth  believing  in   Him  ;  it  is  the 

[  235  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

day  that  commemorates  the  sunrise  of  un- 
broken life  upon  this  world. 

Can  you  wonder  that  those  who  have  caught 
one  glimpse  of  that  unspeakable  blessing  hold 
fast  to  it  ? 

We  cannot  grasp  all  that  Jesus  meant  when 
He  said,  "  I  am  the  Resurrection  and  the 
Life  !  "  —  not  now.  The  full  interpretation  of 
His  glorious  word  can  come  only  in  the  ripe- 
ness of  a  stage  of  eternal  life  which  is  not 
reached  in  this  world.  But  its  early  sunrise 
sends  a  warm  glow  of  the  light  of  truth  across 
this  world,  which  gives  the  lie  to  all  the 
groping,  close-to-the-ground  experiences  and 
all  the  murky  appearances  of  the  world's 
darkness. 

When  one  ray  from  the  Presence  of  the 
Risen,  the  Living  Christ,  who  is  the  Light  of 
men,  has  shone  into  the  soul  of  a  man,  then 
forever  after  everything  is  changed  for  him. 
Life  has  received  a  new  interpretation.  A 
corner  of  the  veil  which  hides  Eternity  from 
Time  has  been  lifted.  We  may  go  our  way, 
our  busy  way   of  worldly   work   and   anxious 

[236] 


THE    RESURRECTION    AND    THE    LIFE 

care,  letting  the  glitter  of  the  things  that  are 
seen  blind  us  and  the  noise  of  the  earthly,  un- 
believing babble  drown  all  heavenly  thoughts, 
—  for  the  moment.  But  underneath  it  all  the 
memory  of  that  glimpse  of  reality  and  of 
eternity  remains  stamped  indelibly  upon  our 
souls.  We  cannot  lose  its  impression.  It 
has  forever  made  our  whole  view  of  things 
different. 

Perhaps  we  are  afraid  of  the  light  and  of  its 
consequences.  And  well  we  may  be  afraid 
while  we  persist  in  living  in  the  Far  Country 
of  Forgetful ness,  squandering  our  birthright 
as  children  of  God  and  of  Eternal  Life. 

But  down  in  our  hearts  we  know  that  we 
would  not  really  lose  that  hope,  —  no,  not 
for  worlds ! 

The  whole  point  of  view  of  this  world's  life 
has  been  changed,  since  that  first-day  morning 
when  the  Lord,  who  is  the  Resurrection  and 
the  Life  came  forth  from  the  tomb,  victor 
over  death,  with  resumed  powers  enlarged  by 
His  fellowship  with  the  sufferings  of  mankind. 

The  light  which  has  guided  human  progress 

[  237  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

and  enlarged  the  bounds  of  knowledge  and 
shown  the  way  for  freedom  and  truth  is  the 
light  that  shines  from  the  empty  sepulchre 
forth  from  which  the  Risen,  Living  Christ  has 
come.  It  is  the  light  of  Life  because  it  is  the 
light  of  eternity  shining  into  time.  The  mean- 
ing of  this  world,  and  of  our  passage  through 
it,  of  our  years  and  days  and  moments  of  time 
has  been  immensely  enlarged  by  the  Risen 
Christ,  who  said,  "  I  am  the  Resurrection  and 
the  Life." 

We  remember  His  victory  and  His  con- 
quest. Has  the  meaning  of  it  come  anew  to 
our  souls  ?  To-morrow,  when  we  go  forth  to 
our  work  or  our  pleasure,  are  we  going  to  let 
the  doors  of  earthliness  shut  in  upon  us,  and 
shut  out  the  light  ?  Are  we  going  to  forget 
the  Risen  One  who  is  the  Resurrection  and 
the  Life? 

But  there  is  no  light  without  Him.  Out- 
side of  Him  is  only  the  dull  shadow  of  the 
Outer  Darkness.  God  grant  that  the  spring- 
time of  His  Eternal  Life  may  come  into  the 
soul  of  every  one  of  us  !     God  grant  that  the 

[238] 


THE    RESURRECTION    AND    THE    LIFE 

radiance  of  that  light  which  is  Life  and  Love, 
given  in  fellowship  with  us  even  unto  death, 
may  show  us  the  way  by  which  we  may  arise 
into  eternal  life  with  Him  who  said,  "  I  am 
the  Resurrection  and  the  Life  "  ! 


[  239  ] 


THE   NATURALNESS    OF   THE 
RISEN   LORD 


And  it  came  to  pass,  as  He  sat  at  meat  with 
them,  He  took  bread  and  blessed  it  and  brake  and 
gave  to  them. 

And  their  eyes  were  opened  and  they  knew 
Him.  —  Luke  xxiv.  30,  31. 


THE   NATURALNESS    OF   THE 
RISEN    LORD 

As  a  piece  of  literature  the  story  of  the  dis- 
ciples of  Emmaus  and  Jesus  is  marvellous. 
In  the  first  place,  the  simplicity,  the  sincerity, 
the  vividness  of  it  is  the  perfection  of  narra- 
tive style. 

And  then  the  characters  of  the  story !  we 
seem  to  have  known  them  always ;  we  look 
into  their  faces,  yea,  into  their  very  souls,  and 
yet  one  of  them  is  unnamed,  and  Cleopas  is  a 
name  found  nowhere  else.  They  appear  sud- 
denly out  of  the  crowd  and  disappear  almost 
as  mysteriously  as  Jesus.  And  Jesus  Himself! 
He  has  passed  death's  portals.  He  is  the  Risen 
Christ;  yet  never  was  the  Man  of  Nazareth 
more  human.  We  behold  Him,  a  wayside 
traveller,  overtaking  two  other  wayside  travel- 
lers ;  we  see  Him,  with  that  gift  of  hearty  human 
comradeship  which  was  His  in  such  supreme 
measure  joining  Himself  to  these  others,  with 

[  243  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

quick  insight  of  sympathy  making  Himself 
their  friend,  drawing  out  their  inmost  thoughts, 
and  then  lifting  them  up  with  masterly  teach- 
ing, —  what  would  we  not  give  for  a  verbatim 
report  of  that  exposition  beginning  with  Moses 
and  all  the  prophets,  of  the  things  in  the  Old 
Testament  Scriptures  concerning  Himself!  — 
but  all  so  naturally,  so  humanly,  that  although 
their  hearts  kindled  by  the  fire  of  his  wayside 
spoken  words  burned  within  them,  they  never 
once  suspected  who  He  was. 

The  test  of  a  story  is  its  ending.  Many  a 
story  otherwise  beautiful  fails  in  this.  But 
here  the  ending  is  the  thrilling  touch,  the 
perfect  climax.  Nothing  could  be  more  dra- 
matic, yet  how  far  from  any  sensational  trick- 
ery !  The  local  color  is  flawless  to  the  very 
end.  We  feel  the  breath  of  the  spring  day, 
and  the  sweetness  of  the  twilight,  and  the 
warm  comradeship  which  in  these  few  hours 
has  grown  so  strong  that  when  Cleopas  and 
his  companion  draw  near  their  village  home 
they  cannot  let  their  new-found  Friend  go. 
He  must  abide  with  them,  because  it  is  toward 

[  244  ] 


THE   NATURALNESS   OF  THE   RISEN  LORD 

evening  and  the  day  is  far  spent.  They  enter 
the  humble  house  and  then  the  Christ,  the 
Risen  Christ,  is  known  —  how  ?  By  some  out- 
flashing  of  the  glory  within  Him  ?  Nay,  by 
the  simple  act  of  blessing  and  breaking  the 
bread  of  the  evening  repast !  It  is  the  very 
homeliness  of  the  act  which  discloses  the  Christ 
and  holds  our  hearts  still  as  this  story  comes 
to  a  close. 

"  He  took  bread,  and  blessed  it,  and  gave 
to  them :  and  their  eyes  were  opened,  and 
they  knew  Him  !  *'  We  have  here  almost 
the  very  words  of  the  institution  of  the  Lord's 
Supper.  Was  it  the  remembrance  of  His 
breaking  the  bread  on  the  night  before  He 
was  crucified  that  revealed  Jesus  to  these  dis- 
ciples of  Emmaus  ?  This  is  scarcely  possible. 
There  had  been  as  yet  but  one  Lord's  Supper, 
and  Cleopas  certainly  had  not  been  there. 
His  name,  a  Greek  name,  is  not  that  of  any 
of  the  Apostles,  and  there  is  no  reason  for  be- 
lieving that  his  unnamed  companion  any  more 
than  himself  was  one  of  the  twelve.  The  un- 
named one  might   possibly   have   been   Luke, 

[  245  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

the  writer  of  this  Gospel  and  the  recorder  of 
this  story.  No,  not  the  Lord's  Supper,  but 
something  else  made  Jesus  known  to  them  by 
His  breaking  of  bread. 

I  believe  we  have  here  a  glimpse  of  the  daily 
life  of  Jesus  in  companionship  with  the  dis- 
ciples who  gathered  about  Him.  Comrade- 
ship and  Masterhood  always  joined  themselves 
in  Jesus.  Always  He  was  the  real,  the  honest, 
the  familiar  friend  with  every  one  of  His  friends, 
and  always  also,  and  as  naturally  He  was  first. 
No  assertion  of  any  claim  was  needed  to  seat 
Him  at  the  head  of  the  table ;  not  one  of  the 
little  company  of  His  friends  could  ever  have 
thought  of  anything  else,  or  permitted  Him  to 
take  any  lower  place.  They  loved  Him  with 
the  love  of  a  deep  reverence.  And  so,  often 
and  often,  in  Peter's  house  at  Capernaum,  or 
beside  the  shore  of  Galilee,  or  on  some  lonely 
hillside  where  they  sat  down  to  their  frugal 
repast  they  had  heard  Him  ask  the  blessing, 
and  before  any  others  touched  it  they  had  seen 
Him  break  the  bread  in  pledge  of  fellowship, 
and  from  His  hand  they  had  received  it. 

[246] 


THE   NATURALNESS   OF  THE   RISEN   LORD 

You  can  imagine  how  it  was.  You  remem- 
ber how  your  father  used  to  ask  the  blessing  at 
the  family  table ;  his  very  words,  the  peculiar 
turn  of  his  speech  and  his  manner  are  graven 
upon  your  memory.  Every  one,  especially  in 
these  more  intimate  and  sacred  acts  has  his 
own  peculiar  way ;  and  Jesus  had  His,  a  very 
sweet  and  noble  way,  expressing  at  once  joyful 
thanksgiving  to  Our  Father  in  Heaven  and 
strong  love  of  brotherhood  with  the  friends 
who  sat  at  meat  with  Him.  I  think  His  very 
manner  of  breaking  the  bread  was  all  His  own, 
with  something  so  gracious  in  it  that  it  never 
could  be  forgotten. 

Every  touch  of  this  story  is  true  to  life.  It 
was  natural  that  the  eyes  of  the  two  disciples 
should  be  holden  when  they  first  met  Jesus 
on  the  road.  They  were  preoccupied.  The 
events  of  the  past  few  days  in  Jerusalem  had 
overwhelmed  them  and  drowned  their  hopes 
in  a  flood  of  grief  so  that  their  senses  were 
stunned  and  blunted.  We  see  things  and 
persons  because  we  are  looking  for  them. 
They  were  not  looking  for  Jesus.     Their  very 

[  247  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

devotion  to  Him  had  shot  the  pain  of  His 
Cross  into  their  souls  so  that  only  the  dying, 
the  dead  Christ  had  any  place  in  their  vision. 
The  farthest  from  their  thoughts  was  that  this 
wayfarer,  this  fellow-traveller  could  be  their 
Lord.  Not  even  the  tones  of  His  voice 
seemed  familiar. 

And  then  there  'was  something  different 
about  Jesus.  For  a  vear  past  the  shadow  of 
the  coming  Cross  had  rested  upon  Him.  He 
was  the  INlan  of  Sorrows.  And  though  He 
was  never,  even  in  darkest  moments  the  man 
of  gloom,  though  His  courage  and  constancy 
helped  the  self-deception  of  the  disciples  who 
never  believed  in  the  Cross  until  it  came,  the 
shadow  of  that  sacrifice  could  not  but  hav^e  had 
a  subtle  effect  upon  Jesus,  —  upon  His  words. 
His  manner,  yea,  the  very  tones  of  His  voice. 

Now  the  shadow  is  gone.  He  has  come 
through  death  into  victorious  life.  He  is  the 
same  Jesus,  the  same  human  friend  with  the 
same  spirit  of  true  comradeship,  yet  with  a  dif- 
ference which  was  easily,  in  the  state  of  mind 
of  those  disciples,  enough  to   hold  their  eyes 

[248] 


THE   NATURALNESS  OF  THE  RISEN  LORD 

that  they  should  not  know  Him.  The  very 
humanness  of  Jesus  helped.  He  seemed,  and 
was,  just  a  fellow-traveller. 

And  what  a  graciousness  was  in  His  self- 
effacement!  How  kind  to  these  friends,  to 
keep  the  precious  secret  for  the  moment  when, 
their  souls  having  been  enlightened  and  their 
hearts  prepared  and  the  day*s  journey  done, 
they  sat  down  together  at  home  in  the  old 
way,  and  then  —  the  familiar  blessing,  the 
well-remembered  gracious  gesture  with  which 
He  broke  the  bread,  the  manner  which  so 
inevitably  revealed  Him !  For  no  one  else 
ever  did  it  in  just  that  beautiful  way  ! 

This  was  not  like  the  world's  idea  of  a  God, 

—  solemn,  distant,  splendid,  —  nor  even  like 
the  conventionally  religious  idea  of  the  Christ, 

—  ceremonious  and  condescending,  —  but  it 
was  like  the  real  Christ;  it  was  the  very  way 
of  Jesus. 

The  lesson  of  the  Christ  made  known  by  the 
breaking  of  bread  is  a  lesson  for  us  to-day. 
Our  Christ  is  the  Christ  of  the  disciples  of 
Emmaus.     The  Christ  whom  we  know,  whom 

[  249  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

we  worship,  with  whom  we  come  into  personal 
fellowship,  has  passed  beyond  the  stage  of  His 
life  as  the  Man  of  Nazareth ;  He  has  become 
the  risen,  the  living,  the  victorious  Christ. 
Doubtless,  as  you  have  read  the  Acts  and  the 
Epistles,  you  have  noticed  how  little  is  said 
about  the  life  of  Jesus  before  His  crucifixion, 
and  what  a  triumphant  stress  is  laid  upon  His 
resurrection  and  His  glory.  Indeed,  we  hear 
Paul  say,  "  Yea,  though  we  have  known  Christ 
after  the  flesh,  yet  now  henceforth  know  we 
Him  [thus]  no  more.'* 

And  when  we  come  to  think  of  it,  was  not 
this  just  what  might  have  been  expected  ?  Con- 
trast the  feeling  of  the  two  disciples  of  Emmaus 
before  Jesus  revealed  Himself  with  their  feeling 
about  Him  and  toward  Him  after  he  He  had 
made  Himself  known  by  the  breaking  of  bread. 
Before  that  moment  they  had  built  their  hopes 
—  and  earthly  though  these  may  have  been 
they  were  lofty  expectations  —  upon  Him  who 
should  redeem  Israel.  They  looked  for  a  half- 
religious,  half-political  Saviour,  a  Christ  after 
the  flesh.     His  crucifixion  was  for  them  noth- 

[  250] 


THE   NATURALNESS   OF  THE   RISEN  LORD 

ing  less  than  black  disaster  and  the  tomb  in 
Joseph's  garden  seemed  the  grave  of  their 
hope.  But  now  all  was  changed  in  a  moment. 
As  they  walked  with  Him  over  the  hills  in  the 
sunset  glow,  Jesus  had  shown  them  how  it 
behooved  Christ  to  suffer  and  to  enter  into  His 
glory.  And  then.  He  whom  they  had  thought 
done  to  death  by  the  Cross  and  the  Roman 
spear  made  himself  known  to  them  by  the 
familiar  blessing  and  the  never-to-be-forgotten 
manner,  all  His  own,  of  breaking  the  bread, 
so  that,  even  though  coarse  and  common 
food,  it  seemed  a  gift  of  love  from  His  hand. 
And  instantly  they  knew  Him,  —  yes,  as  they 
had  never  known  Him  before.  His  talk  by 
the  way  which  had  made  their  hearts  burn 
within  them.  His  opening  of  the  truth  in 
Scripture  about  Himself,  had,  like  a  flash  of 
light  become  a  living  truth ;  now  they  knew 
Him,  the  Risen,  the  Deathless  One,  the  Re- 
deemer by  sacrifice,  the  glorified,  the  almighty. 
Can  you  not  see  that  forever  afterward  the 
Christ  of  their  enlarged  vision  must  be  the 
Christ  who  filled  their  thoughts  and  was  pro- 

[251] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

claimed  in  their  words !  And  yet  He  was 
nearer  to  their  hearts  than  they  had  ever  been 
able  to  let  Him  come  in  the  old  days. 

When  they  constrained  the  unknown  yet 
strangely  fascinating  companion  of  their  jour- 
ney and  said,  "  Abide  with  us,  for  it  is  toward 
evening  and  the  day  is  far  spent,"  and  He 
went  in  and  sat  down  with  them  to  their  poor 
supper  and  made  Himself  known  by  the  break- 
ing of  bread,  what  a  deep,  what  a  heavenly, 
meaning  was  in  it  all  !  He  was  the  same 
Jesus,  the  same  gracious  comrade  who  in  past 
days  perhaps  they  had  thought  almost  too 
free  and  familiar  for  the  Christ  who  was  soon 
to  be  King  in  Jerusalem.  But  now  they  knew, 
they  knew  how  His  freedom.  His  fellowship, 
was  real  with  a  deeper,  holier  reality  than  they 
had  ever  dreamed.  The  very  nearness,  the 
very  comradeship  of  the  Master  took  upon 
itself  awe  which  searched  their  souls.  The 
very  love  of  God  Himself  seemed  to  over- 
shadow them.  And  this  is  our  Christ,  our 
Friend,  our  Comrade,  yet  our  Risen,  Living 
Lord! 

[  252  ] 


THE   NATURALNESS   OF  THE   RISEN  LORD 

In  this  latter  day,  in  this  age  of  the  ripeness 
of  things,  —  a  ripeness  which  may  be  the  sign 
of  coming  judgment,  —  in  this  age  of  a  mad- 
ness for  material  success  which  threatens  the 
very  foundations  of  morality,  when  conduct 
has  become  more  than  ever  the  test  of  faith, 
yea,  perhaps  its  martyrdom,  we  look  longingly 
toward  that  Life,  lived  in  a  world  too  much 
like  our  own  in  its  darker  aspects.  We  seek, 
as  the  world  has  never  sought  before,  the 
measure  of  true  living  and  its  inspiration  in 
the  life  and  example  of  Jesus  as  He  passed 
through  His  conflict  with  the  sins  of  the 
world.  We  long  for  just  that  homely  fellow- 
ship with  Him  which  the  disciples  had  while 
He  was  still  the  Man  of  Nazareth.  We  want 
the  human  touch  of  Jesus. 

And  we  have  it.  But  it  is  the  touch  of 
Him  who  made  Himself  known  as  the  Risen 
Christ,  the  Living  Christ,  by  the  breaking  of 
bread.  Not  less  human  nor  less  real,  but 
more  near  is  He  because  to  us  He  is  some- 
thing and  Some  One  infinitely  greater  than  the 
dim  record  of  the  example  of  a  life  lived  nine- 

[  253  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

teen  hundred  years  ago.  That  life  of  the  long 
ago  comes  into  living  touch  with  our  lives 
to-day,  since  the  Risen  Christ  has  made  him- 
self known  by  the  breaking  of  bread.  Our 
Comrade,  our  Friend?  yes!  But  our  Living 
Lord! 

And  therefore  we  do  not  despair  even  of  a 
world  burdened  with  its  sins ;  we  do  not  sadly 
say,  like  the  disciples  of  Emmaus  before 
Christ  was  made  known  to  them,  "  We  trusted 
that  this  had  been  He  who  should  have  re- 
deemed Israel."  For  our  Living  Lord  is  He 
to  whom  all  power  in  heaven  and  earth  is 
given,  and  we  know  Him  as  the  Redeemer 
not  of  Israel  only  but  of  mankind. 


[  254] 


THE   COMPLETED   BROTHERHOOD 


And  He  said  unto  them  :  Cast  the  net  on  the 
right  side  of  the  ship  and  ye  shall  find.  They 
cast  therefore,  and  now  they  were  not  able  to 
draw  it  for  the  multitude  of  fishes. 

John  xxi.  6. 


THE    COMPLETED    BROTHERHOOD 

At  the  beginning  of  the  Gospel  of  John,  in 
the  latter  part  of  its  first  chapter,  there  is  an 
idyl  of  friendship  telling  how  Jesus  and  the 
Galilean  fishermen  first  met  and  were  drawn  to 
each  other.  In  the  last  chapter,  at  the  end  of 
the  Gospel,  the  note  of  the  beginning  is  heard 
once  more.  We  see  what  the  friendship  has 
become  after  trial,  —  how  firm,  how  sweet, 
how  familiar,  yet  with  that  touch  of  awe  with- 
out which  no  great  love  is  complete.  But  the 
poem  is  also  a  parable.  The  story  of  the  dis- 
ciples' night  fishing  with  its  wonderful  morning 
sequel  has  a  lesson  whose  freshness  remains 
unfaded. 

To  understand  the  parable  we  must  recall 
the  history  of  the  few  weeks  preceding  the 
event  which  it  records. 

The  disciples  followed  Jesus  in  his  last 
entry  into  Jerusalem  inflamed  with  hope  of  the 
immediate  coming  of  His  kingdom.  Their 
17  [  257  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

old  employments  had  been  forsaken ;  they 
seemed  to  have  bid  farewell  forever  to  Galilee 
with  its  boats  and  nets  ;  visions  of  honors  and 
responsibilities  in  a  world-wide  empire  filled 
their  minds. 

The  crucifixion  of  Jesus  was  not  only  a 
bitter  personal  grief;  it  was  a  black  disap- 
pointment, shattering  at  a  stroke  the  dream 
of  their  lives ;  and  the  resurrection  of  Jesus 
while  it  turned  their  mourning  into  joy,  failed 
to  restore  the  dream  intact.  The  looked-for 
kingdom  did  not  come.  The  days  passed  by, 
brightened  by  occasional  visions  of  their  Risen 
Lord,  yet  without  any  call  to  action,  without 
any  call  even  to  the  sort  of  service  which  the 
Lord  had  asked  of  them  before  the  events  of 
the  Cross. 

They  returned  to  their  old  homes  in  Gali- 
lee ;  and  at  last  one  day  Peter  announced,  "  I 
go  a-fishing  !  "  which  appears  to  mean,  "  Since 
there  is  nothing  else  to  do,  I  am  going  to 
work  at  my  old  trade  once  more."  The 
others  fell  in  with  his  suggestion.  They  said, 
"  We  also  go  with  thee." 

[258] 


THE    COMPLETED    BROTHERHOOD 

Their  resolve  shows  the  healthy  moral  con- 
dition of  these  men.  High  spiritual  work  and 
experience  such  as  had  been  theirs  for  three 
years  past  is  not  without  its  perils,  one  of 
which  is  that  it  often  unfits  the  workers  for  the 
plain  duties  of  life.  But  these  disciples  had 
been  with  Jesus  and  they  were  unspoiled. 

Probably  the  fishing-business  of  Zebedee 
and  Sons,  in  which  perhaps  Peter  was  a  part- 
ner, had  not  been  discontinued  during  the 
absence  of  the  disciples.  Zebedee  had  man- 
aged it  with  the  help  of  his  hired  servants ; 
and  it  is  altogether  likely  that  James,  John, 
Peter,  and  the  others  had  been  supported  from 
its  proceeds  while  they  were  busy  with  their 
Master's  work.  It  was  but  right  now,  when 
their  Lord  was  not  demanding  their  personal 
attendance,  that  they  should  take  hold  again 
and  do  their  part. 

Moreover,  an  old  fisherman,  like  Peter, 
could  scarcely  see  the  boats  go  out  and  return 
again  with  their  shining  catch  and  not  feel  the 
fishing  instinct  rising  in  his  breast.  And  if 
any  one    imagines  that  such  a  feeling   would 

[  259  ] 


THE   BPvOTHER  AND  THE   BROTHERHOOD 

betray  a  worldly  or  unspiritual  disposition,  or 
that  turning  to  such  work  would  be  inconsistent 
with  the  dignity  of  an  apostolic  calling,  then 
he  little  understands  true  apostleship,  or  the 
sacredness  with  which  Jesus  has  invested  all 
the  work  of  common  life. 

What  happened  on    their  first  fishing-trip, 
or  during  the  first  part  o£  it,  is  an  old  story. 
"  That    night    they    caught    nothing."     Often 
before    they    had    met    the    same    experience. 
Every  fisherman  knows  it.     Nothing  is  more 
uncertain    than    the    ways    of  the    fish  in  the 
waters.     And    that    is    one    reason  why  some 
people  dislike  fishing,  and  amuse    themselves 
with  humorous    scorn  of  fishermen  and  their 
luck.     But  in  this  apostolic  occupation  there 
is  not   only  an    education    in    patience,  but  a 
training  in  trust  of  Divine  Providence.     The 
true  fisherman  is  always  getting  a  blessing,  even 
when  he  does  not  fill  his  net;  he  can  aflFord 
to  let  other  people  laugh. 

This  is  part  of  the  parable.  "  That  night 
they  caught  nothing."  Yet  they  were  in  the 
way  of  their  duty;  they  were  waiting  upon  a 

[  260  ] 


THE    COMPLETED    BROTHERHOOD 

higher  than  human  power.  Nor  was  their 
apparently  fruitless  labor  wasted.  Their  labor 
kept  them  in  readiness  in  the  right  position 
for  rich  reward  when  the  right  moment  should 
come. 

The  night  wore  slowly  away  in  resultless 
toil.  Again  and  again,  now  here,  now  there, 
they  cast  the  net  and  caught  nothing.  The 
flush  of  dawn  began  to  redden  the  eastern  sky 
beyond  the  dusky  hills ;  and  still  they  labored 
on,  still  they  cast  the  net;  for  your  true  fisher- 
man is  not  a  man  that  gives  up  easily.  Nor 
is  it  simply  a  dull  patience,  or  foolish  trust  in 
mere  luck  that  lures  him  on,  —  not  if  he  be, 
like  Peter  and  his  comrades,  experienced  in 
fishing;  but  he  knows  that  this  is  the  way  to 
success.  To  work  on  against  all  apparent 
hope  is  part  of  his  calling,  because  his  work 
must  always  be  concerned  with  a  mystery : 
and  no  matter  what  his  skill  or  craft,  for  the 
largest  part  of  such  success  as  may  come  to 
him  he  must  trust  in  a  Power  which  is  beyond 
his  ken. 

Upon  those  disciples,  upon  those  all-night 
[261] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

fishers,  the  day  dawned  at  last  and  morning 
came.  On  the  shore,  perhaps  a  hundred  yards 
away,  they  see  a  man  standing,  —  some  fellow- 
fisherman,  very  likely,  come  to  look  out  over 
the  water  and  watch  fiDr  signs  of  a  school  of 
fish,  as  fishermen  do  to  this  day  from  the 
bluffs  of  the  New  England  coast.  He  must 
be  a  fisherman,  so  they  think,  for  in  true  fisher 
phrase  he  calls  to  them,  "  Children,  have  ye 
any  meat  ? "  And  the  Greek  suggests,  as  a 
more  idiomatic  English  equivalent,  "  Boys, 
have  you  caught  anything?"  They  shout 
back  the  discouraged  answer,  "  No  !  "  Again 
the  man  on  the  shore  calls,  "  Cast  the  net  on 
the  right  side  of  the  boat  and  ye  shall  find !  ** 
They  obeyed.  Do  you  ask  why  ?  Then  re- 
member they  had  toiled  all  night  in  vain,  and 
any  suggestion  might  be  welcome ;  but  be- 
yond this,  I  believe  they  thought,  "  This 
fisherman  from  his  vantage  ground  sees  what 
we  cannot  see;  he  sees  a  school  offish." 

They  cast  the  net  therefore,  according  to 
his  advice.  And  now,  behold,  they  were  not 
able  to    draw  it  for  the  multitude   of  fishes. 

[  262  ] 


THE    COMPLETED    BROTHERHOOD 

Their  all-night  quest  was  rewarded  in  the 
morning.      Richly  blessed  was  their  work. 

"  In  this  wise  Jesus  showed  Himself  to  His 
disciples/* 

The  marvellous  in  this  story  dwells  not  on 
what  is  called  "  the  miraculous.'*  The  great 
draught  of  fishes  is  something  the  like  of 
which  has  happened  to  many  a  fisherman ;  and 
the  part  of  the  Lord  in  it  is  only  natural  to 
Him  who  knows  the  mysteries  of  the  waters 
and  of  life,  and  can  command  the  movements 
of  men  upon  the  land  or  of  the  fish  in  the 
sea. 

The  real  marvel  is  a  marvel  of  Divine  love, 
and  it  lies  in  the  manner  in  which  Jesus 
showed  Himself  to  His  disciples.  Remember 
He  is  the  Risen  Christ !  Not  in  shining 
glory  attended  by  mighty  angels,  attired  in  no 
priestly  or  regal  robes,  speaking  in  no  solemn 
other-world  accents,  but  as  a  comrade  He 
shows  himself.  Alone  on  the  lake  shore  in 
the  morning's  dawn,  in  fisherman's  garb,  in 
fisherman's  fashion.  He  salutes  the  all-night 
toilers   in  the    boats   with    their  own    familiar 

[  263  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

phrase,  with  the  call  of  their  craft.  As  a 
brother  fisherman  He  shows  Himself,  so  that 
they  take  His  advice  without  question  and 
discover  who  He  really  is  only  by  the  great 
gift  He  gives  them.  And  this  is  the  Risen 
Christ !  The  victor  over  death  and  sin,  the 
Lord  of  Life  whom  we  worship ! 

The  parable  is  complete.  But  do  we  un- 
derstand it?  ■  Indeed  it  would  almost  seem 
that  the  marvel  is  not  even  the  manner  in 
which  Jesus  showed  Himself  The  greatest 
marvel  is  the  unbelief  that  makes  such  a  reve- 
lation of  the  Christ  appear  unnatural  or  in- 
appropriate. 

But  why  should  it  be  hard  for  Christians 
to  understand  that  to  be  genuine  is  natural 
to  Jesus,  and  that  His  fellowship  with  His 
friends  was  always,  and  always  shall  be,  com- 
plete ?  Our  Brother  scorns  condescension. 
He  is  too  great  to  need  the  fuss  and  ceremony 
which  our  littleness  imagines  necessary  to  great- 
ness. The  Lord  of  Life  comes  close  to  our 
common  lives  with  the  divine  ease  of  a  perfect 

love. 

[264] 


THE    COMPLETED    BROTHERHOOD 

But  the  parable  widens;  it  becomes  a  proph- 
ecy. This  is  the  second  time  that  Jesus  taught 
his  disciples  a  lesson  about  their  greater  work 
out  of  their  common  work  in  the  fishing-boats. 
And  this  time  the  lesson  is  taught  by  the 
Christ,  crucified  and  risen,  ready  to  send  His 
Apostles  forth  armed  with  the  power  of  a 
completed  gospel  for  the  conquest  of  the 
world. 

The  prophecy  in  the  parable  is  for  all  time  ; 
it  is  for  us  even  more  than  for  the  first  dis- 
ciples. Over  and  over  again  Christ's  church 
in  her  quest  for  men's  souls  has  repeated  the 
experience  of  the  Galilean  disciples  in  their 
all-night  fishing.  The  Lord's  presence  seems 
withdrawn.  Our  labor  seems  in  vain,  without 
progress,  without  success,  just  a  ceaseless  cast- 
ing of  the  net  which  ever  comes  back  empty. 
Fishing  for  men  is  like  fishing  for  fish.  There 
is  many  a  fruitless  night  of  toil  when  nothing 
is  caught  and  work  seems  thrown  away.  In 
other  things  also  there  is  likeness.  There  is 
ever  the  same  dealing  with  a  mystery  beyond 
our  ken.     The  ways  of  the  fish  in  the  waters 

[  265  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

have  been  studied  for  ages  by  men  whose  wits 
have  been  sharpened  by  need  of  daily  food, 
and  latterly  they  have  been  investigated  with  all 
the  appliances  of  science  by  government  com- 
missions. Yet  the  mystery  remains.  Who 
knows,  for  example,  why  the  fish  that  wander 
in  great  schools  are  abundant  one  year  and  the 
next  year  can  scarcely  be  found  ?  Of  course, 
for  this  and  other  mysteries  of  life  beneath  the 
waters  there  are  theories  in  plenty ;  but  few  of 
them  can  be  proved. 

God  alone  knows  the  way  of  the  fish  in  the 
sea,  and  God  only  knows  the  way  of  human 
souls.  Does  any  one  but  God  really  know 
why  one  generation  will  be  responsive  to  His 
Spirit's  call  and  with  open  mind  receive  His 
gospel  of  eternal  life,  and  the  next  generation 
will  prove  refractory,  indifferent,  shy  of  the 
net  ?  Or  why  should  one  country  or  one  city 
or  one  congregation  receive  Christ's  message 
of  salvation  gladly,  and  another,  very  little 
different  in  circumstances  or  mental  character, 
remain  untouched  ? 

We  think  we  can  see  reasons.      Sometimes 
[  266  ] 


THE    COMPLETED    BROTHERHOOD 

the  reasons  appear  quite  clear  —  up  to  a  certain 
point,  within  limited  bounds.  We  say  "  The 
spirit  of  the  age  is  against  faith,"  or  "  The  min- 
istry has  lost  spiritual  power,"  or  "  Religious 
methods  are  faulty  and  fail  to  adapt  them- 
selves to  the  need  of  the  hour,"  or  "  Theology 
needs  reconstruction."  And  some  or  all  of 
these  things  may  be  perfectly  true.  Yet  why 
they  should  be  true  at  one  time  and  not  at 
another  remains  a  mystery,  and  the  discus- 
sions concerning  them  and  the  remedies  pro- 
posed remind  one  of  the  talk  you  may  hear 
when  a  group  of  fishermen  gather  about  the 
fire  in  the  evening  after  an  unsuccessful  day's 
work. 

The  great  spiritual  movements  which  at  in- 
tervals agitate  men  are,  after  all,  a  profound 
mystery.  They  follow  a  law  higher  than  any 
we  are  acquainted  with,  and  obey  the  will  of 
Him  whose  way  is  in  the  sea  and  His  paths 
in  the  great  waters  and  whose  footsteps  are 
unknown. 

Meantime  what  shall  we  do  ?  Shall  we  draw 
the  boats  ashore  and  wait  idly  for  the  Lord's 

[  267  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

appearance?  Nay  !  we  know  neither  His  day 
nor  His  hour,  but  we  do  know  that  no  reward 
comes  to  the  unready.  Through  all  the  night 
the  boats  must  be  manned  and  the  nets  out. 
Nor  shall  our  toil  be  really  in  vain  even  when 
it  seems  most  fruitless.  It  brings  always  the 
blessing  of  discipline,  and  keeps  our  souls  alert, 
and  teaches  that  truest  of  faith  which  is  faith- 
fulness, and  makes  us  ready  for  the  morning. 
Nor  shall  every  night  be  like  that  one  when 
the  disciples  caught  nothing.  If  there  are  no 
net-trying  hauls,  there  shall  be  at  least  enough 
success  to  make  us  know  that  the  Master  is 
not  far  away. 

But  we  shall  see  some  strange  things  in  our 
all-night  quests, — man-made  revivals,  with  glit- 
tering equipment  of  boats  and  gear  and  captains 
whose  great  "  I  '*  sounds  so  loud  that  men  can 
scarcely  hear  the  plain  Lord  Himself;  we  shall 
see  much  threshing  of  the  waters  and  appear- 
ance of  success,  yet  pitiful  results  when  flimsy, 
broken  nets  are  actually  drawn  ashore. 

We  shall  see  what  is  even  worse,  —  boats 
whose   crews   deny   the  work  for  which   they 

[  268  ] 


THE    COMPLETED    BROTHERHOOD 

sailed  forth,  and  ceasing  to  be  fishers  for  souls 
turn  their  craft  into  carriers  of  excursion  parties 
or  form  them  into  meaningless  parades  of 
empty  ceremony,  while  they  quarrel  with  each 
other  for  precedency. 

But  for  honest  fishers  the  prophecy  in  the 
parable  is  bright  with  the  strength  of  a  great 
hope.  We  may  work  in  the  dark  now,  or  at 
best  by  the  dim,  reflected  light  of  the  stars. 
We  may,  we  do,  make  mistakes.  The  careless 
crews  and  the  crowd  ashore  mock  us ;  perhaps 
doubts  disturb  us.  But  we  know  that  though 
His  face  and  form  may  be  hidden  for  the 
moment.  He,  the  Mighty  Fisherman,  our 
Brother,  the  Lord  of  Life,  never  forgets  us  and 
is  never  really  far  away.  And  we  know  that 
the  sure-coming  dawn  shall  reveal  Him  bring- 
ing a  result  that  shall  fill  our  souls  with  awe 
and  thanksgiving. 

When  we  reflect  upon  the  place  of  this  story, 
of  the  all-night  fishing  with  its  morning  bless- 
ing ;  when  we  remember  that  this  is  almost 
the  very  last  scene  in  which  Jesus  appears  in 
visible  presence  on  earth ;  when  we  see  how 

[  269  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

past  and  future,  the  assurance  of  the  perpetual 
comradeship  of  Jesus,  and  the  promise  of  awful 
power,  are  here  linked  together,  then  the 
prophecy  in  the  story  becomes  portentous. 
Many  a  time  the  prophecy  has  been  fulfilled  in 
part.  Blessings  have  come  from  the  realized 
presence  and  manifest  power  of  the  Spirit  of 
the  Christ.  Yet  the  promise  seems  to  point 
toward  some  richer  blessing  than  any  the 
Church  on  earth  has  yet  known,  —  some  morn- 
ing after  darkest  night,  bright  with  the  very 
Presence  of  Him  whom  the  disciples  saw  be- 
side Galilee,  speaking  with  such  power  that 
our  hearts  shall  leap  with  joy  and,  awestruck, 
we  shall  say,  "  It  is  the  Lord !  He  has 
come ! 


[  270  ] 


PRAYER    IS  MORE    THAN   ASKING 


I  will  stand  upon  my  watch,  and  set  me  upon 
the  tower,  and  will  watch  to  see  what  He  will  say 
unto  me,  and  what  I  shall  answer  when  I  am 
reproved.  —  Habakkuk  ii.  i . 


PRAYER   IS    MORE   THAN   ASKING 

What  is  prayer  ?  The  readiest  answer  would 
be,  "  Prayer  is  asking  something  from  God." 

But  this  defines  prayer  only  in  its  narrowest 
sense.  We  must  remember  that  prayer  has 
a  human  use  which  has  colored  our  idea  of  its 
meaning.  We  ask  things  of  our  fellow-men  ; 
we  pray  to  them  as  truly  and  quite  as  often  as 
we  pray  to  God.  Even  now  people  sometimes 
say  "  I  pray  you."  Several  centuries  ago  they 
commonly  said  "  I  pray  thee,"  when  we  would 
say  "  Please,"  and  always  expressing  a  request, 
always  asking  something.  The  old  use  of  the 
word  is  enshrined  in  legal  documents.  A 
petition  to  a  Court  of  Law  ends,  "  Your  peti- 
tioners do  ever  pray." 

Asking,  is  indeed  prayer  :  and  because  this 
is  the  first,  the  most  common  sort  of  prayer 
we  forget  that  prayer  to  God  may  become 
something  else  and  something  more  than  ask- 
ing. At  the  outset  we  becloud  the  issue;  we 
^8  [  273  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

think  of  prayer  only  as  asking  and  thus  we 
raise  the  questions,  "  Is  it  of  any  use  to  pray  ? 
Does  God  hear?  Does  He  answer?  Will  He 
give  what  we  ask  ?  " 

The  old  theology  called  Calvinism  —  though 
it  is  much  older  than  Calvin,  and  in  its  most 
rigid  form  more  extreme  than  anything  he 
taught  —  viewed  God  as  an  absolute  Sov- 
ereign, self-limited  in  His  sovereignty  by  His 
own  predestination  from  all  eternity  of  every- 
thing that  comes  to  pass.  The  predestinarians 
were  devout  men ;  they  believed  in  prayer, 
they  practised  prayer.  And  yet,  to  the  ques- 
tions "  Will  God  hear  our  prayers  ?  Will  He 
answer  ?  "  their  reply  was,  "  Yes,  if  we  ask 
according  to  His  will/'  And  while  that  doc- 
trine has  been  a  comfort  to  many  Christians 
and  a  conservator  of  faith  to  those  able  to  dis- 
cern the  deep  truth  in  it,  to  many  others  it  has 
been  a  stumbling-block.  It  has  clipped  the 
wings  of  their  prayer ;  it  has  left  them  in  doubt 
about  the  real  efficacy  of  prayer. 

Into  the  midst  of  these  doubts,  reinforcing 
them,  the  new  scientific  philosophy  has  come. 

[  274  ] 


PRAYER    IS    MORE    THAN    ASKING 

It  has  not  been  often  noticed  — indeed  it  almost 
seems  as  though  the  notice  of  it  were  carefully 
avoided  ;  but  is  it  not  true  that  the  modern 
scientific  philosophy  is  practically,  not  only 
a   new  but  an   extreme  Calvinism  ? 

In  place  of  a  Sovereign  God  this  philosophy 
puts  an  absolutely  Sovereign  Law  of  Nature. 
In  place  of  predestination  it  teaches  a  re- 
morseless evolution  going  on  from  eternity  to 
eternity,  ordering  all  things  according  to  an 
inevitable  process,  under  the  pressure  of  an  iron 
necessity  smothering  the  cry  of  feeble  man  to 
the  Powers  above. 

Now,  few  of  us  are  either  theologians  or 
philosophers.  We  have  at  most  some  super- 
ficial, second-hand  acquaintance  with  the  history 
of  religious  thought  or  the  doctrines  of  the 
day.  Yet  percolating  down  through  the  mental 
strata  of  the  times  these  doctrines  affect  us  all ; 
and  in  nothing  do  they  affect  us  more  quickly 
than  in  our  attitude  toward  prayer.  The  ques- 
tion about  prayer  comes  in  a  new  form.  No 
longer  is  it  simply  "  Will  God  hear  ?  Will  He 
answer  P  "      But  the  question  now  is,  "  Can  God 

[  275  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

hear  ?  Can  He  answer  ?  "  Can  the  Being  who 
fills  the  immensity  of  the  universe  hear  us  when 
we  pray  ?  Can  He  whose  impartial,  eternal 
Law  rules  everywhere  change  one  jot  or  tittle 
of  that  fixed  and  unalterable  order,  or  allow  its 
majestic  march  to  swerve  in  the  least  because 
of  our  puny  asking  ?  If  we  follow  the  path 
of  a  narrow  logic,  it  is  easy  to  make  prayer 
seem  useless,  hopeless. 

But  the  new  knowledge  of  our  time  suggests 
something  beside  God's  vastness  and  the  rigid- 
ity of  His  law.  More  and  more  the  absurdity 
of  attempting  to  measure  the  universe  in  the 
pint  cup  of  our  little  human  logic  is  becoming 
evident ;  less  and  less  is  it  possible  to  think  of 
God  as  an  impassive  Sovereign  throned  in  dis- 
tant skies,  or  as  an  impersonal  Force  acting 
mechanically  upon  all  things.  Our  new  knowl- 
edge discloses  something  which  can  only  be 
called  the  intimacy  of  God  with  every  atom  of 
His  creation.  We  discover  —  and  our  grow- 
ing knowledge  makes  the  discovery  growingly 
impressive  —  that  the  Power  which  holds  the 
universe  embraces  its  minutest  particle.     The 

[276] 


PRAYER    IS    MORE    THAN    ASKING 

dust  which  we  brush  from  our  clothes  is  not 
different  from  star  dust.  We  dare  no  longer 
call  anything  "  little."  Not  even  the  micro- 
scope can  find  a  particle  that  has  escaped  the 
touch  of  God. 

Most  significant  of  all,  we  find  that  the  mys- 
tery of  Life  is  larger  than  we  dreamed.  We 
scarcely  dare  speak  of  the  ground  under  our 
feet  as  "  dead."  And  yet  the  secret  of  the 
principle  of  Life  more  and  more  retires  into 
some  evident  kinship  with  those  mighty  An- 
gels of  the  Lord,  like  Light,  which  pervade 
infinity. 

The  significance  of  Life  deepens  ;  the  mean- 
ing of  that  expression  of  Life  which  we  call 
"  Mind  "  or  "  Spirit  "  widens.  The  goings  of 
the  Eternal  Spirit,  in  which  we  live  and  move 
and  have  our  being,  are  heard  as  He  walks  in 
His  garden  of  our  earth  in  the  cool  of  the  day. 
The  intimacy  of  God  with  His  world  and  with 
our  souls  takes  a  new  solemnitv. 

The  Fatherhood  of  God  is  not  a  doctrine  of 
modern  science ;  but  the  conception  of  God 
which  science  is  —  it  may  be  unconsciously  — 

[  '^11  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

shaping  can  be   reasonably   described   only  in 
terms  of  Fatherhood. 

Now,  to  us  Christians  the  thought  of  God  as 
the  Almighty  Father  is  nothing  new.  It  is  a 
teaching  which  pervades  all  the  Bible  from  be- 
ginning to  end ;  it  is  the  very  centre  and  soul 
of  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  But  the  new  knowl- 
edge of  the  intimacy  of  God  with  His  world 
and  with  life  ought  to  help  us  to  understand 
how  absolutely,  how  precisely  Jesus  meant 
what  He  said  when  He  taught  that  God  is 
Our  Father. 

We  have  not  always  understood  Jesus.  With 
minds  confused,  sometimes  by  a  teaching  of 
theology  which  made  God  seem  a  Sovereign  so 
far  above  and  so  foreign  to  ourselves  that  no 
real  Fatherhood  was  possible ;  sometimes  by 
gloomy,  scientific  dogmas  representing  God  as 
some  vast,  unknown,  impersonal  Force,  Jesus* 
Gospel  of  the  Fatherhood  of  God  has  appeared 
only  figurative,  sentimental,  or  at  best  appli- 
cable only  to  select  souls. 

But  Jesus  verily  meant  all  He  said,  and  all 
that  great  word  implies  when   He  told  us  to 

[278] 


PRAYER    IS    MORE    THAN    ASKING 

call  God  "  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven." 
Yes  !  in  Heaven,  in  all  His  Universe  ! 

And  this  thought  of  God  changes  the  whole 
idea  of  prayer.  Prayer  ceases  to  be  begging 
for  something  from  some  Power  outside  of  and 
foreign  to  ourselves.  Prayer  becomes  some- 
thing more  than  petition  to  the  Governor  of 
the  world,  and  something  different  from  mere 
asking. 

Jesus  tells  us,  "  When  ye  pray,  use  not  vain 
repetitions  as  the  heathen  do,"  —  do  not  pray 
like  beggars  teasing  a  superior  —  "for  they 
think  that  they  shall  be  heard  for  their  much 
speaking.  Be  not  ye  therefore  like  unto  them  : 
for  your  Father  knoweth  what  things  ye  have 
need  of  before  ye  ask  Him^ 

It  is  true,  a  dumb  Force  cannot  change  in 
answer  to  prayer.  A  Sovereign  who  is  simply 
the  head  of  the  government  must  keep  coldly 
and  impartially  within  the  limits  of  the  letter 
of  the  law.  But  a  Sovereign  Father  whose 
name  and  nature  is  Sovereign  Love,  whose  in- 
timacy with  His  children  is  that  they  are  part 
of  Himself,  easily  finds  ways  within  His  law 

[  279] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

to  answer  His  children's  cry.  And  since  He 
is  Father,  the  very  fact  that  He  knows  before- 
hand what  we  need  instead  of  making  prayer 
needless  makes  prayer  natural. 

A  new  aspect  of  prayer  is  brought  to  light 
in  this  great  word  of  Jesus.  God's  side  of 
prayer  is  revealed.  A  Father  loves  to  have 
His  children  talk  with  Him  and  freely  tell 
Him  their  wants.  Prayer  is  asking  for  the 
things  we  need  from  Our  Father.  But  prayer 
to  a  Father  must  always  be  more  than  asking; 
it  must  be  the  expression  of  the  fellowship  of 
love.  Prayer  to  a  Father  is  a  communion  in 
which  two  persons  share. 

God  always  answers  our  prayers.  He  an- 
swers them  in  the  spirit  and  after  the  manner 
of  a  Father  who  knows  our  needs  before  we 
speak.  The  expression  of  our  heart's  desire 
always  moves  Him,  because  it  is  the  desire  of 
His  own  children ;  and  though  He  may  not 
always  give  the  very  thing  for  which  we  ask ; 
because  the  wisdom  of  Divine  Love  knows 
what  we  really  need,  yet  He  never  gives  us  a 
stone  for  bread. 

[  280  ] 


PRAYER    IS    MORE    THAN    ASKING 

If  prayer  were  mere  asking,  and  if  we  could 
have  every  whim  satisfied  by  teasing,  then  the 
power  of  prayer  would  be  a  fatal  power.  The 
real  power  of  prayer  is  given  to  those  who 
have  learned  that  prayer  is  more  than  ask- 
ing. The  real  power  of  prayer  belongs  to 
those  who  know  prayer  as  fellowship  with 
Our   Father. 

But  before  we  can  enjoy  the  privileges  or 
experience  the  powers  of  children,  we  must 
take  our  place  within  the  family  life.  The  re- 
lation between  Father  and  children  is  mutual ; 
the  blessing  of  it,  the  efficiency  of  it  rests  in 
fellowship.  You  have  no  right  to  stand  out- 
side the  family,  unbelieving  and  loveless  to- 
ward your  Father,  and  then  demand  what  you 
may  deem  your  rights. 

There  is  a  treatment  of  the  doctrine  of  God's 
Fatherhood  which  ought  to  make  those  guilty 
of  it  ashamed  and  afraid.  To  ignore  the  mutu- 
ality of  our  relationship  with  Him  ;  to  demand 
the  advantages  while  we  refuse  the  obligations  ; 
to  care  only  for  what  we  think  we  ought  to  get 
from  Our    Father  while    we    deny    Him    our 

[281] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

love,  our  submission,  and  our  service,  —  this 
is  nothing  less  than  treason.  This  is  the  great 
sin  from  which  all  lesser  sins  proceed.  There 
is  a  dreadful,  as  truly  as  there  is  a  blessed  as- 
pect of  the  Fatherhood  of  God.  Because  He 
is  a  God  of  love  He  is  a  jealous  God. 

But  inside  the  family,  in  our  place  as  loving 
and  loyal  children,  not  only  have  we  the  right 
to  pray,  but  prayer  is  the  natural,  the  sponta- 
neous expression  of  our  fellowship  with  Our 
Father.  Since  God  is  Our  Father,  it  is  not 
too  much  to  say  that  our  prayers  may  influence 
Him,  —  yes,  and  thus  move  the  hand  that 
moves  the  world. 

The  Weisshorn  is  one  of  the  highest  and, 
many  travellers  say,  the  most  beautiful  of  the 
snow-clad  peaks  of  the  Alps.  Professor  Tyn- 
dall  in  his  vivid  description  of  his  ascent  of 
that  mountain,  tells  how  from  hour  to  hour 
of  toilsome  and  perilous  climb  the  summit, 
though  often  in  view  seemed  no  nearer  and 
he  almost  despaired  of  the  possibility  of  reach- 
ing it,  until,  rounding  the  sharp  shoulder  of  a 
ridge,  there  it   stood,  in   all   the   unspeakable 

[  282  ] 


PRAYER    IS    MORE    THAN    ASKING 

glory    of   its    spotless    whiteness,   only    a    few 
yards   away  ! 

I  think  a  full  experience  of  the  meaning  of 
prayer  will  be  something  like  that.  We  climb 
toward  its  holy  and  beautiful  crown,  toiling, 
often  doubting,  yet  always  climbing,  until  we 
reach  the  point  where  we  can  speak  no  more, 
when  our  asking  seems  at  an  end.  We  come 
to  some  place  in  our  experience  like  that  of  the 
prophet  Habakkuk.  The  sins  of  his  people 
troubled  him  ;  he  cried  to  God  against  them. 
And  the  answer  came  in  a  vision  of  judgment 
so  fearful  that  the  prophet's  soul  stood  aghast. 
In  passionate  words  of  prayer  he  protests, 
until,  alarmed  at  his  own  freedom  and  pre- 
sumption, he  breaks  off  abruptly  and  keeps 
silence.  He  can  say  no  more  to  God,  —  he 
can  only  say  to  himself,  "  I  will  stand  upon 
my  watch,  and  set  me  upon  the  tower,  and  will 
look  forth  to  see  whai  He  will  say  unto  me!'' 
Out  of  the  very  agony  of  his  prayer  he  has 
grasped  the  highest  truth  about  prayer,  —  the 
truth  that  prayer  is  a  real  communion,  and 
that  prayer  is  not  alone  our  speaking  to  God, 

[  283  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

but  that  it  is  also  God  speaking  to  us.  Only 
when  we  have  come  to  the  place  where  we  stop 
asking  and  say,  "  I  will  look  forth  to  see  what 
He  will  say  unto  me/'  "  I  will  hear  what  God 
the  Lord  will  speak,"  only  then  do  we  ap- 
proach the  summit  of  prayer.  But  then,  the 
beautiful  summit  is  close  at  hand  ;  then  we 
shall  know  that  prayer  is  mutual,  prayer  is 
communion. 

We  believe  that  God  is  Our  Father :  in  our 
hearts,  in  our  better  and  clearer  moments  we 
believe  God  knows  us  for  His  own  children. 
The  moment  we  do  thus  believe  and  accept 
the  truth  of  our  relationship  with  God,  com- 
munion between  Him  and  our  soul  becomes  a 
fact  even  though  we  may  not  be  clearly  con- 
scious of  it.  The  consciousness  of  it  waits 
upon  our  patience  and  our  willingness  to  be 
still  and  listen.  We  shall  know  the  blessing 
of  praver  when  we  learn  the  practice  of  silence 
before  God,  waiting  for  Him  to  speak  to  our 
souls. 

Too  often  our  prayers  are  mere  words, 
habitual  phrases  uttered  while  the  mind  wan- 

[  284  ] 


PRAYER    IS    MORE    THAN    ASKING 

ders  elsewhere  ;  the  spirit  may  be  willing  while 
the  flesh  is  weak.  And  even  when  most  sin- 
cere and  most  earnest  our  prayers  may  be,  not 
too  long,  but  too  full  of  our  own  words,  too 
absorbed  in  eager  and  continued  asking. 

Did  you  ever  study  the  prayers  of  Jesus  ? 
There  is  but  one,  the  prayer  for  His  disciples 
at  the  Last  Supper,  which  has  any  length  ;  and 
that  is  really  short  when  we  consider  how  much 
it  says.  His  other  prayers  are  scarcely  more 
than  sentences;  and  all  of  them,  even  the  great 
prayer  in  the  seventeenth  chapter  of  John,  are 
like  fragments  of  a  conversation.  The  prayers 
of  Jesus  always  make  us  feel  that  what  He  says 
is  for  the  sake  of  what  His  Father  is  going 
to  say  to  Him.  The  effect  upon  us  of  the 
prayers  of  Jesus  might  be  likened  to  that  which 
we  feel  when  a  friend  in  the  same  room  with 
us  talks  through  the  telephone,  and  we  know 
that  some  one  else,  unseen  and  unheard  by  us, 
is  listening  and  answering. 

The  recorded  prayers  of  Jesus  are  brief,  they 
are  fragments  of  one  side  of  a  conversation  ; 
but  we  know  that  His  prayer  hours  were  not 

[285]  • 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

hurried  or  abridged.  With  days  as  busy  as 
those  of  the  busiest  of  us.  He  passed  whole 
nights  in  prayer.  And  while  we  dare  not  even 
wish  the  report  of  those  all-night  vigils  might 
have  been  given  us,  because  we  feel  that  they 
were  too  sacred  and  personal  for  our  hearing, 
the  manner  of  His  prayer  which  we  do  behold 
makes  us  certain  that  the  all-night  prayers  of 
Jesus  were  communion  more  than  asking,  — 
listening  while  His  Father  spoke,  more  than 
utterance  of  His  own  words. 

But  will  God  answer?  Will  He  speak  so 
that  we  can  hear  and  understand  ?  Will  any 
word  or  voice  come  to  us  out  of  the  dark  and 
the  silence  ?  Now,  there  are  ways  of  speaking 
without  words.  A  friend  speaks  to  us  with  a 
look.  Nature  speaks  to  some  of  us  without 
audible  voice  when  we  hold  our  own  thought 
quiet  so  that  our  souls  can  listen.  We  say 
"  Conscience  speaks  within  us."  And  God 
can  make  your  spirit  understand  if  you  will 
but  keep  silence  and  wait  for  Him.  Perhaps 
you  may  say,  "  This  is  only  mysticism,  and 
only  possible  to  certain  mystical  temperaments." 

[  286  ] 


PRAYER  IS  MORE  THAN  ASKING 

But,  no  !  This  is  communion  with  Our  Father 
in  its  most  practical  working.  How  can  we 
know  the  reality  of  communion  if  we  fill  all 
the  moments  —  too  often  brief  and  hurried 
moments  —  of  our  prayers  with  our  asking 
and  then  never  wait  for  the  answer?  How 
can  we  know  what  He,  Our  Father,  will  say 
to  us  while  we  persist  in  doing  all  the  talking 
ourselves  ?  I  believe  many  of  us  would  find, 
if  we  should  recall  our  experiences,  that  those 
of  our  prayers  which  were  most  clearly  and 
certainly  answered  were  ejaculations,  like  the 
prayers  of  Jesus,  uttered  in  the  midst  of  our 
daily  work,  perhaps  not  even  spoken  aloud ; 
and  then,  while  in  silent  and  waiting  faith  our 
souls  kept  still,  the  answer  came  in  some  bright 
path  seen  through  our  maze  of  apparently 
hopeless  perplexity,  or  in  some  clear  vision 
of  duty,  or  some  deep  peace  in  the  midst  of 
trouble,  or  strength  and  joy  of  soul  where  all 
had  been  weakness  and  doubt. 

The  practice  of  silence  before  God  is  the 
practice  of  the  Presence  of  God.  At  its  least 
and  lowest  the  respect,  the  reverence  we  owe 

[  287  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Our  Father  should  make  us  wait  and  hear 
what  He  will  speak.  Silence  before  God  is 
but  the  common  sense  of  an  actual  faith ;  and 
a  wholesome  discipline,  if  we  are  inclined  to 
be  wordy  or  tempted  to  be  eloquent,  or  if  we 
find  ourselves  framing  our  prayers  in  conven- 
tional and  hackneyed  phrase.  Silence  before 
God  is  escape  from  ourselves  into  Our  Father's 
presence. 

Yes  !  Prayer  is  more  than  asking ;  prayer 
is  the  fellowship  of  the  spirit  of  the  Father 
with  the  souls  of  His  children. 

We  shall  know  the  power  and  the  blessing 
of  prayer  when  we  know  the  reality  of  the 
bond  which  joins  us  to  Our  Father  in  Heaven, 
and  when  in  humble  faith  we  confess  ourselves 
His  real  and  honest  children. 


[  288  ] 


THE    HARDSHIP    OF   FAITH 


We  walk  by  faith,  not  by  sight. 

2  Corinthians  v.  7. 


THE    HARDSHIP   OF   FAITH 

>Ve  are  quite  ready  to  confess  that  faith  is 
not  easy.  It  seems  a  matter  of  course  that 
faith  must  be  tested,  proved,  disciplined.  The 
"  trial  of  faith  "  in  this  sense  can  be  accepted 
without  trespassing  upon  the  religious  proper- 
ties. But  does  not  something  different  some- 
times arise  in  our  soul,  —  something  we  are 
not  quite  ready  to  speak  out  loud,  but  which 
if  put  into  words  would  say,  "  Faith  is  itself  a 
trial.     Faith  is  a  hardship  *'  ? 

Have  you  never  asked  yourself,  "Why 
should  I  be  compelled  to  believe  in  what  I 
cannot  see  ?  Is  faith  real  ?  Is  it  reasonable  ? 
Is  there  any  use  in  it?" 

The  last  question  alone  is  pertinent,  because, 
whether  faith  is  reasonable  or  not,  it  certainly 
is  real.  A  larger  part  of  life  than  we  often 
think  rests  upon  faith.  Even  as  a  trial  faith 
is  always  with  us,  and  faith  as  a  trial  is  by  no 
means   confined    to   the    religious    life.     Some 

[291] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

of  you  who  are  mothers  will  go  to  the  city  to- 
morrow. You  will  leave  your  house  and  your 
children  to  the  care  of  servants  or  friends. 
You  will  trust  these  precious  possessions  to 
those  who  are  out  of  your  sight  and  your 
reach.  All  day  long  you  will  walk  by  faith 
and  not  by  sight.     Is  this  never  a  hardship  ? 

You  are  a  man  of  business.  You  go  to 
your  office  and  every  moment  of  your  busy 
day,  even  when  it  seems  to  yourself  and  to 
others  that  your  hand  alone  is  on  the  lever 
guiding  the  machine  you  are  really,  in  ways 
large  and  small,  trusting  other  people  who  are 
out  of  your  sight  and  beyond  your  control ; 
and  when  you  return  home  in  the  evening  you 
know  that  enterprises  started  during  the  day, 
which  closely  concern  your  personal  interests 
have  passed  into  the  management  of  men 
whom  you  do  not  see  and  can  only  trust. 

In  general  this  does  not  trouble  us.  Indeed, 
it  has  become  an  axiom  that,  not  only  must 
business  be  carried  on  by  faith,  but  that  faith 
is  a  most  advantageous  foundation  for  affairs 
and  one  which  greatly  enlarges  the   power   of 

[  292] 


THE    HARDSHIP    OF    FAITH 

action.  The  walk  by  faith  and  not  by  sight 
works  well,  as  a  rule,  until  some  trouble,  some 
panic  of  distrust  takes  possession  of  men. 
And  then,  does  not  faith  itself  become  a  trial 
hard  to  bear  ? 

Few  of  us  concern  ourselves  with  the  prob- 
lems of  the  universe ;  yet  few  of  us  escape 
moments  when,  the  feeling  of  our  seeming  in- 
significance and  our  real  helplessness  in  the 
grasp  of  the  mighty  forces  of  nature  comes 
over  us  with  dark  oppression.  This  life  so 
precious  to  us,  the  life  which  is  our  own  sen- 
sitive self,  hangs  poised  upon  the  unknown 
will  —  or  caprice,  as  it  sometimes  seems  — 
of  mysterious  and  awful  powers.  A  slight 
mistake  in  the  adjustment  of  ourselves  to  our 
circumstances  is  enough  to  quench  our  life 
like  a  snuffed  candle.  We  walk,  because  we 
must,  by  faith  in  the  midst  of  constantly  pres- 
ent and  unseen  dangers.  And  if  faith  is  sel- 
dom a  conscious  trial,  then  this  is  only  because 
use  and  wont  have  dulled  our  sense  of  what 
we  call  "  the  uncertainties  of  life." 

But  the  sense  of  these  uncertainties  does 
[  293  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

awake  at  times.  Some  malignant  flash  out  of 
the  portentous  shadows  that  flicker  about  our 
path,  some  "  accident,"  some  harsh  grazing 
of  terrifying  peril,  makes  us  cry  out  against 
the  lack  of  light;  our  soul  revolts  against  the 
dim  lamp  of  faith  which  alone  is  given  to 
guide  us. 

The  trials  of  faith  which  meet  us  along  our 
common  earthly  way  ought  to  make  it  evident 
that  the  difficulties  of  Christian  faith  and  the 
burdens  of  it  are  not  artificial  or  unnecessary, 
though  it  may  be  doubted  whether  the  facts 
about  faith  in  common  life  make  Christian 
faith  any  easier  or  any  the  less  a  trial. 

The  trial  of  our  faith  as  Christians  is  rooted 
deep  in  the  nature  of  the  faith  itself  and  also 
in  our  own  nature.  Here  we  are  in  this  world, 
—  this  material,  apparently  substantial  world,  — 
and  we  are  living  in  a  fleshly  body  which  cor- 
responds with  the  material  world  and  has 
grown  out  of  it.  We  are  part  and  parcel  of 
the  visible,  tangible,  to-be-felt  things  in  the 
midst  of  which  we  are  placed.  Our  knowl- 
edge comes  to  us  largely  through  our  physical 

[  294] 


THE    HARDSHIP    OF    FAITH 

senses.  We  know  what  we  can  see  and  touch 
and  handle  and  measure  and  weigh,  in  terms 
of  length,  breadth,  thickness,  and  heaviness. 
All  else  seems  uncertain  and  problematical. 

We  are,  indeed,  constantly  learning  that 
there  are  vast  realms  of  truth  beyond  the  grasp 
of  our  bare  senses.  Even  the  Multiplication 
Table,  which  every  child  learns  at  school,  has 
in  it  actually  spiritual  implications.  But  we 
shut  our  eyes  against  the  hint  of  the  spiritual. 
We  value  the  Multiplication  Table  for  the 
sake  of  what  we  call  its  "  practical  "  —  which 
means  its  earthly  and  sensible  —  use.  The 
most  of  us  always,  and  all  of  us  for  the  most 
of  the  time,  do  positively  shrink  from  what- 
ever leads  above  or  beyond  the  well-defined 
bounds  of  life  in  the  flesh  on  a  visible,  solid 
earth.  There  alone  we  breathe  easily  and  are 
comfortably  at  home.  The  very  stars  are 
acceptable  because  they  are  visible  and  solid 
amidst  the  mystery  which  we  call  "  empty 
space."  We  live  in  the  body;  we  are  of  the 
earth,  earthy  ;  even  the  thoughts  of  that  spirit- 
ual thing  which  we  call  "  mind "  are  colored, 

[  295  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

warpedj  formed,  fashioned,  by  the  influences 
of  our  fleshly  and  earthly  existence.  And  now 
to  us,  bodily  earthites,  comes  the  message  of 
the  spiritual,  invisible,  eternal,  ever  present, 
and  Almighty   God  ! 

The  idea  of  God  is  a  necessary  idea,  which 
forces  itself  upon  us ;  and  yet  the  idea  of  God 
contradicts  all  our  experience,  all  the  custom 
and  teaching  of  our  senses.  We  must  believe 
in  God.  Only  the  fool  says  in  his  heart. 
There  is  no  God.     And  yet  is  the  belief  easy? 

We  may  have  been  trained,  or  we  may  have 
trained  ourselves  into  a  sort  of  mechanical 
acceptance  of  a  credal  formula ;  but  when  we 
really  try  to  think  or  feel  our  creed  when  we 
try  it  alone,  in  the  recesses  of  our  own  soul, 
are  we  never  troubled?  We  need  be  neither 
philosophers  nor  theologians  to  discover  that 
faith  is  a  trial.  Even  children  often  find 
faith  a  heavier  trial  than  their  elders  are  aware. 
Some  of  us  can  never  forget  the  spiritual  tor- 
tures through  which  we  passed  in  childhood  or 
early  youth. 

The  human  mind,  unable  to  escape  God, 
[296] 


THE    HARDSHIP    OF    FAITH 

yet  recoiling  with  confused,  terrified  amaze- 
ment from  the  thought  of  One  so  foreign  to 
fleshly  experience,  seeks  ways  of  escape.  One 
way  is  that  of  the  idolatry  which  has  fastened 
itself  upon  the  religion  of  so  large  a  portion  of 
mankind.  This  is  the  primitive  way,  charac- 
teristic of  the  childhood  of  the  race.  Another, 
which  we  might  call  the  decadent  way  of  super- 
cultivation,  is  the  denial  of  God*s  Personality, 
the  degradation  of  the  idea  of  God  into  the  idea 
of  an  Unknown  Force.  After  its  fashion  this 
is  as  fleshly  as  idolatry,  because  it  attempts  the 
elimination  of  every  living  touch  of  God  upon 
our  own  living  souls,  and  compels  us  to  think 
only  of  some  blind  Power  working  upon  the 
materials  of  which  our  bodies  are  made.  Both 
idolatry  and  agnosticism  are,  after  all,  just 
pathetic  protests  against  the  hardships  of  faith. 
The  Christian  revelation,  —  the  proclamation 
of  God  manifest  in  the  flesh  in  the  person  of 
Jesus,  God's  Christ,  —  is  certainly  an  aid  to 
faith.  The  craving  which  idolatry  represents  ; 
the  longing  for  a  God  who  can  be  seen  and 
touched,   is   answered   in   Christ.     Yet    Christ 

[  297  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

does  not  lift  the  burden  of  faith.  He  makes 
the  burden  a  more  personal  and  pressing  one. 
The  Person  of  Christ  Himself  makes  a  strange 
demand  upon  our  faith.  And  the  hardship  of 
the  demand  is  little,  if  not  all  relieved  when 
we  deny  Christ's  Virgin  birth  and  His  resur- 
rection and  His  miracles,  —  in  short,  when  we 
deny  Christ  altogether  and  try  to  content  our- 
selves with  a  human  Jesus.  He  becomes  only 
more  inexplicable  thus.  The  fact  remains  that, 
through  Him,  a  flood  of  light  from  the  Un- 
seen and  the  Spiritual  has  descended  upon 
this  world,  —  a  flood  of  light  which  neither 
the  semi-paganism  of  the  Church  in  its  dark 
ages  nor  the  cult  of  a  semi-materialistic  agnos- 
ticism in  our  later  and  more  sophisticated  time 
has  been  able  to  quench. 

Account  for  it  as  you  may,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed that  Jesus  has  opened  a  new  world  to 
faith.  He  has  enlarged  both  our  conception 
of  a  world  to  come  and  our  conception  of  life 
in  this  present  world.  Faith  must  hereafter 
lay  hold  of  relations  which  have  been  estab- 
lished between  the  spiritual   and   the  earthly. 

[298] 


THE    HARDSHIP    OF    FAITH 

The  face  of  Jesus  is  a  mirror  in  which  we  see 
our  true  life.  We  discover  ourselves  and, 
behold,  we  are  children  of  the  Unseen,  the 
Spiritual  God ! 

The  discovery  reverses  the  familiar  order 
mirrored  from  our  earthly  experience,  and 
shows  that  the  things  which  are  seen  are  tem- 
porary and  the  things  which  are  unseen  are 
eternal.  Christian  Faith  calls  to  us  with  im- 
perative demand,  and  says,  "  Lay  hold  upon 
the  eternal  realities ;  clasp  hands  with  your 
unseen  Heavenly  Father!"  And  we  are  yet 
in  the  body,  living  on  this  visible,  material 
earth  !  Is  faith  no  trial  ?  Is  there  no  hard- 
ship in  faith  ? 

But  is  not  the  trial,  the  hardship,  the  strife, 
the  struggle,  which  Faith  calls  us  into  pre- 
cisely that  which  we  most  need  ?  A  little 
reflection  upon  the  nature  and  meaning  of 
the  gospel  of  Jesus  is  enough  to  prove  the 
need. 

We  say  that  Jesus  reveals  God  to  us.  And 
this  is  true.  This  is  why  Jesus  is  the  Christ, 
and  this  proves  Him  the  Christ.     In  a  true, 

[  299] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

visible,  living  body  of  flesh  and  blood,  in  a 
true  human  life  like  our  own,  Jesus  shows  us 
the  Father,  That  great  word,  which  contains 
the  soul  of  the  gospel  of  Jesus,  needs  no  prov- 
ing. The  spirit  within  us  leaps  to  meet  its 
message.  Heart  and  soul  cry  out  for  the  Liv- 
ing God,  and  when  we  hear  Jesus  say  "Your 
Father !  "  we  find  the  explanation  of  our- 
selves. And  we  love  the  Christ  who  in  a 
life  like  our  own,  subject  to  our  limitations, 
tempted  in  all  points  like  as  we  are,  exhales 
from  His  very  humanity  the  righteousness 
and  love  of  God.  We  see  God  in  our  Brother 
Jesus,  and  in  our  Brother  we  behold  our 
Father. 

But  this  is  not  all.  In  Jesus  we  see  God 
through  a  life  which,  human  as  it  is,  most 
evidently  springs  from  something  infinitely 
larger  than  this  life  of  the  body  in  a  world 
of  dust.  We  feel  his  kinship  with  the  spiritual 
mysteries  and  majesties  of  the  eternal  world 
even  while  He  walks  upon  the  earth.  He 
declares  that  He  has  come  to  give  Eternal 
Life ;  and  His  own  life  has  in  it  that  which 

[  300] 


THE    HARDSHIP    OF    FAITH 

compels  our  recognition  of  something  in  Him 
which  cannot  be  measured  by  any  earthly 
rules. 

A  grave  doubt  may  be  permitted  whether 
the  credal  definitions  and  affirmations  of  the 
divinity  of  Christ  have  not  served  to  hide 
rather  than  clarify  this  mysterious,  this  awful 
kinship  of  Jesus  with  the  Spiritual  and  Eternal. 
It  is  something  felt  too  deeply  for  adequate 
expression  in  words.  Through  all  the  cen- 
turies down  to  to-day  men  of  all  sorts,  even 
unbelieving  men,  have  felt  and  do  feel  it. 
And  this  kinship  of  Jesus  with  the  spiritual 
and  eternal,  with  the  Larger  Life  above  this 
earth,  has  had  more  power  over  men  than  His 
moral  teaching.  In  fact,  His  moral  teaching 
compels  reverence  because  of  the  awful  author- 
ity behind  it.  In  the  doctrine  of  Jesus'  right- 
eousness and  love  appear  as  mighty  angels  of 
eternity.  You  may,  if  you  think  it  will  help 
you,  leave  the  miracles  of  His  mighty  works 
out  of  the  account  when  you  try  to  understand 
Jesus ;  but  this  greater  miracle  inherent  in  His 
nature  and  character  remains  inexpugnable. 

[301  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

The  message  of  the  very  life  of  Jesus, 
of  His  human  life  as  our  Brother,  calls  us 
toward  a  life  larger  than  any  native  to  this 
world.  It  is  the  message  of  the  Life  of  God, 
His  Father  and  ours.  And  clearly,  as  He 
teaches  that  this  Eternal  Life  when  received 
from  Him  is  ours  now,  here,  while  we  are 
still  in  the  body,  with  equal  clearness  does  His 
message  imply  that  Eternal  Life  must  go  on, 
eternally  growing  in  a  wider,  freer,  more  real 
and  true  existence  than  any  possible  in  this 
world. 

As  Jesus  is  about  to  leave  this  world.  His 
parting  prayer  for  His  brethren  who  are  God's 
children  is,  "  Father,  I  will  that  they  also 
whom  Thou  hast  given  me  be  with  me  where 
I  am  ;  that  they  may  behold  my  glory  which 
Thou  hast  given  me  !  " 

Such,  then,  is  the  nature  of  our  Christian 
life,  our  life  as  brethren  of  Jesus  and  children 
of  Our  Father.  Yet  here  we  are,  still  in  the 
flesh,  with  bodies  half  animal,  and  moulded 
out  of  the  stuflf"  that  must  return  to  the  dust 
of  this   material   world  upon  which   we  live  ; 

[  302] 


THE    HARDSHIP    OF    FAITH 

here  we  are,  part  of  the  busy,  swarming  life, 
—  the  life  of  the  world  which  takes  the  tem- 
porary things  seriously  as  though  they  were 
the  only  reality.  We  live  in  a  world  of  sight 
and  sound  and  touch  and  sense  and  body  and 
birth  and  death,  where  everything  tends  to 
make  mere  earthites  of  us.  And  we  are  not 
earthites :  we  are  in  the  world,  but  not  of 
it;  we  are  children  of  the  Infinite,  Eternal, 
Spiritual  God !  And  our  real  life,  the  life 
that  is  going  to  endure  and  grow  into  true 
freedom  and  greatness,  is  not  earthly  but 
heavenly. 

We  must  conquer  the  Canaan  of  this  our 
inheritance  as  children  of  God.  Faith  is  the 
strong  right  hand  by  which  we  may  grasp  our 
own.  Let  us  thank  God  for  the  hardships 
which  make  faith  hardy ;  and  for  the  diffi- 
culties which   compel  faith  to  be  daring ! 

Moreover  we  need  initiation  into  the  ways 
and  instincts  of  the  Family  to  which  we  belong. 
The  lessons  of  this  learning  cannot  wait.  Here 
on  earth  we  must  master  the  knowledge  of  those 
rudiments    of  eternal    life    without    which    we 

[  303  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

would  be  unfit  for  its  larger  phase.  Here 
only,  amid  the  contrasts  and  conflicts  between 
flesh  and  spirit,  can  these  lessons  be  rightly 
learned.  Faith  is  our  schoolmaster.  The  teach- 
ing of  Faith  is  not  easy  :  it  was  not  meant  to  be 
easy.  Faith  is  a  stern  discipline,  training  us  in 
the  mastery  of  reality. 

It  is  never  easy  to  believe  in  the  Unseen  and 
the  Spiritual ;  yet  even  without  Christ's  gospel 
we  might  know,  and  we  do  know,  that  the  real 
things  in  human  life  are  spiritual  and  unseen. 
These  minds  within  us  that  can  reach  up  to  the 
stars ;  this  conscience  that  whispers  to  us  the 
truth  of  such  an  immaterial  thing  as  Righteous- 
ness ;  these  souls  capable  of  a  Love  immeas- 
urably beyond  any  fleshly  love ;  this  spirit 
within  us,  —  is  not  this  the  real  thing  which 
makes  us  men  and  not  brutes  ^ 

The  gospel  of  Christ  comes  with  its  strong 
message  answering  the  vague  cravings,  the 
undeveloped  spiritual  instincts,  of  the  real 
human  in  us.  It  tells  us,  "You  are  children 
of  God;  your  life  is  His  Hfe,  eternal  life!" 
Faith  guides  our  hands  to  reach  the  gracious 

[  304  ] 


THE    HARDSHIP    OF    FAITH 

gift.     Faith  strengthens  our  arms  to  grasp  the 
inestimable  blessing. 

In  the  nature  of  the  case  the  discipline  of 
Faith  cannot  be  always  easy  or  gentle.  Like 
the  children  that  we  are,  we  whimper;  we  com- 
plain; we  cry  out,  "O  Lord,  I  don't  like  Faith  i 
Faith  is  too  hard.  I  want  to  see.  I  want  to 
walk  by  sight  !  "  No  !  We  cannot  walk  by 
sight,  we  must  walk  by  Faith,  because  "  This 
is  the  victory  that  overcometh  the  world,  even 
our  Faith  !  " 

It  is  more  than  doubtful  whether  we  should 
find  it  easier  to  lay  hold  of  God  if  we  could  see 
Him.  The  experience  of  Jesus  with  his  dis- 
ciples shows  that  visible  presence  does  not 
make  the  way  of  faith  easier.  The  one  com- 
plaint of  Jesus  against  His  disciples  while  He 
was  with  them  was,  their  "little  faith."  When 
He  left  them  and  ascended  to  His  Father  in 
the  unseen  heaven,  their  faith  grew  larger  and 
stronger.  Faith  is  at  home  only  while  teaching 
spirit  to  lay  hold  of  Spirit ;  and  Faith  exults 
when  the  spirit  in  us  grasps  Our  Father,  who  is 
Spirit. 

20  [  305  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Love  will  indeed  outlast  Faith,  but  Love 
will  not  reign  supreme  until  Faith  has  made 
our  Father's  Presence  real  and  His  love  un- 
questioned. Then  only  will  Faith's  task  be 
finished. 

And  Faith  must  have  us  now,  while  we  are 
children,  when  the  lasting  impress  can  yet  be 
made  upon  our  souls.  Now,  through  the  hard- 
ship of  faith,  we  must  begin  to  learn  the  differ- 
ence between  the  illusions  of  the  flesh  in  a  world 
of  perishing  material,  and  the  life  of  Our 
Father's  house,  where  such  immaterial  and  spir- 
itual things  as  righteousness,  love,  truth,  beauty, 
are  the  real  riches. 

Faith  is  the  cross  upon  which  unreality  dies 
and  the  true  and  eternal  realities  are  revealed. 

"  Thou  say'st,  '  Take  up  thy  Cross,* 
O  man,  and  follow  Me  ! 
The  night  is  black,  the  feet  are  slack, 
Yet  we  would  follow  Thee. 

"  But,  O  dear  Lord,  we  cry 

That  we  Thy  face  could  see, 
Thy  blessed  face,  one  moment's  space  — 
Then  we  might  follow  Thee  ! 
[3°6] 


THE    HARDSHIP    OF    FAITH 

"  O  heavy  Cross  —  of  faith 
In  what  we  cannot  see  ! 
As  once  of  yore,  Thyself  restore 
And  help  to  follow  Thee. 

"  If  not  as  once  Thou  cam'st 
In  true  humanity, 
Come  yet  as  Guest  within  the  breast 
That  burns  to  follow  Thee. 

"  Within  our  heart  of  hearts 
In  nearest  nearness  be ; 
Set  up  Thy  throne  within  Thine  own ; 
Go,  Lord  :  we  follow  Thee." 


1^07  ] 


MEMORIAL    DAY 


And  it  came  to  pass  after  these  things,  that 
Joshua,  the  son  of  Nun,  the  servant  of  the  Lord, 
died,  being  an  hundred  and  ten  years  old. 

And  they  buried  him  in  the  border  of  his  in- 
heritance in  Timnath-serah,  which  is  in  Mount 
Ephraim,  on  the  north  side  of  the  hill  of  Gaash. 

And  Israel  served  the  Lord  all  the  days  of 
Joshua,  and  all  the  days  of  the  elders  that  over- 
lived Joshua,  and  which  had  known  all  the  works 
of  the  Lord  that  He  had  done  for  Israel. 

Joshua  xxiv.  29—31. 


MEMORIAL    DAYi 

The  going  forth  of  Israel  from  Egypt  and 
their  settlement  in  Caanan  was  a  revolutionary 
event  whose  results  reach  down  to  the  distant 
shores  of  our  own  time.  Great  ideas  were  born 
with  the  birth  of  that  little  nation,  ideas  which 
have  had  a  mighty  influence  in  the  world.  To 
say  nothing  of  the  religious  principles  which 
have  descended  through  Israel  as  a  heritage  for 
mankind,  it  is  of  special  interest  to  us  at  present 
to  recall  the  fact  that  the  idea  of  a  genuine 
nationality  was  first  incarnated  in  the  Hebrew 
people. 

The  world  of  the  days  of  the  Exodus  might 
be  compared  with  Europe  before  the  French 
Revolution.     Instead    of    nations    there    were 


1  The  author  of  these  sermons  is  Chaplain  of  McKinley  Post, 
Grand  Army  of  the  Republic.  It  has  been  customary  for  the 
Post  to  attend  Divine  worship  at  Riverdale  on  the  Sunday  pre- 
ceding Memorial  Day.  This  sermon  was  preached  on  one  of 
those  occasions. 

[3"] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

dynasties.  The  kings  owned  their  subjects ; 
the  mass  of  the  people,  who  were  often  of 
diverse  races,  were  Httle  better  than  slaves. 
The  armies  of  these  empires  were  composed 
of  members  of  a  military  caste,  and  wars  were 
affairs  of  the  rulers. 

Do  we  understand  what  it  meant  to  that  an- 
cient world  when  the  people  of  Israel  became 
lost  to  view  in  the  deserts  of  Sinai  ?  Do  we 
realize  what  a  revolutionary  force  was  let  loose  .^ 
Here  was  a  people  without  an  earthly  king, 
owning  allegiance  to  Almighty  God  alone;  a 
people  without  an  aristocracy,  whose  humblest 
member  was  by  right  of  birth  a  son  of  Israel 
and  therefore  a  full  citizen ;  a  people  whose 
army  was  composed  of  all  its  able-bodied 
men ! 

And  the  discipline  of  those  forty  wilderness 
years  —  the  severely  simple  life,  the  stern 
regimen  of  spiritual,  moral,  and  physical  train- 
ing—  was  making  this  people  a  nation  knit 
together  in  all  its  parts,  a  true  commonwealth, 
a  social  organism  of  living  brotherhood,  and  a 
nation  of  such  soldiers  as  the  world  of  that  day 

[  312] 


MEMORIAL    DAY 

had  never  yet  seen.  The  national  armies  of 
modern  times,  such  armies  as  those  of  our  Civil 
War,  had  their  prototype  in  the  embattled  host 
of  Israel. 

Our  text,  with  its  mingled  note  of  pride 
and  pathos,  describes  a  moment  in  the  history 
of  Israel  which  corresponds  to  that  in  which 
we  are  now  living.  The  wars  which  won 
Canaan  and  a  country  for  the  nation  are  past. 
Joshua,  the  incomparable  leader,  dies.  There 
are  elders  who  survive  him,  who  were  perhaps 
mere  boys  when  they  stood  in  the  ranks  of  the 
nation*s  victorious  army.  Now  they  are  vet- 
erans, and  they  remember;  they  have  known 
all  the  works  of  the  Lord  that  He  has  done 
for  Israel. 

Can  we  not  see  the  similitude  between  these 
comrades  of  Joshua  and  that  Grand  Army  of 
which  we  are  the  rapidly  waning  remnant? 
The  similitude  does  not  end  here.  These  vet- 
erans recall  the  days  of  old.  In  memory  they 
live  over  again  their  battles  and  victories ;  but 
through  the  memory  runs  an  undertone  of 
solemn  reminder  to  generations  yet  to  come, 

[  313] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

—  a  warning  that  the  mighty  impulse  whence 
those  victories  came,  the  impulse  which  alone 
can  give  future  victories,  may  easily  be  lost. 
"  And  Israel  served  the  Lord  all  the  days  of 
Joshua;  and  all  the  days  of  the  elders  [the 
veterans]  who  overlived  Joshua,  which  had 
known  all  the  works  of  the  Lord  that  He  had 
done  for  Israel." 

Would  to  God  it  might  be  so  with  us ! 
Would  to  God  the  veterans  of  our  Grand 
Army  might  be  such  witnesses  holding  up  high 
and  effective  example  of  godliness  and  faithful- 
ness to  the  younger  men  of  our  time  ! 

I  believe  we  do  feel  such  an  obligation  rest- 
ing upon  us.  We  feel  it  more  keenly  than  the 
world  outside  our  own  ranks  can  understand. 
And  if  our  influence  is  not  all  we  could  wish 
there  are  solemn  reasons  for  the  seeming  fail- 
ure. Our  Civil  War  was  terribly  destructive 
of  life  ;  the  sacrifices  called  for  were  extreme, 
and  in  the  nature  of  the  case  they  were  to  a 
sad  extent  the  sacrifice  of  our  best,  our  bravest, 
our  noblest  young  men. 

No  small  part  of  the  pathos  of  our  Memorial 
[3H] 


MEMORIAL    DAY 

season  is  the  fact  —  a  fact  which  we  veterans 
know  too  well  —  that  we  who  survive  are  not 
the  best  of  those  who  with  us  went  forth  to 
battle. 

We  are  justly  proud  of  our  association  with 
those  heroic  souls  who  so  freely  gave  them- 
selves and  their  lives ;  we  esteem  it  a  high  and 
a  sufficient  honor  that  we  stood  shoulder  to 
shoulder  with  them  and  strove  honestly,  as 
they  did,  to  give  our  nation's  cause  full  meed 
of  faithful  service.  But  when  memory  brings 
back  their  faces,  we  know  that  among  the 
comrades  who  fell  at  our  side  were  many  who 
could  ill  be  spared ;  whose  lives,  had  they 
lived,  would  have  been  an  invaluable  rein- 
forcement to  the  cause  of  God  and  our  country. 

There  is  another  reason  why  the  impulse 
which  sustained  the  nation  in  its  dark  hour 
has  waned,  —  as  the  similar  impulse  was  evi- 
dently waning  at  the  time  when  Joshua  died. 
And  that  reason  is  now,  as  it  was  then,  the 
success  of  the  cause  for  which  we  battled. 

The  people  of  this  country  did  not  thor- 
oughly   become   an    undivided    and   complete 

[3«S] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

nation  until  after  the  victorious  termination  of 
the  Civil  War.  And  then  the  consolidation  of 
the  country  into  one  mighty  nationality  reach- 
ing from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  from  the 
Lakes  to  the  Gulf,  ushered  in  a  period  of  un- 
exampled material  prosperity.  Ever  since  the 
war  the  people  of  this  country  have  been  so 
busy  with  business,  so  drunk  with  the  excite- 
ment of  great  industrial  and  financial  enter- 
prises,—  and  latterly  so  absorbed  in  spending 
the  wealth  created,  that  it  has  been  hard  in- 
deed for  any  voice  of  high  moral  or  spiritual 
endeavor  to  make  itself  heard. 

A  reaction  has  come  at  last,  and  not  a 
moment  too  soon.  A  wave  of  reform  has 
overspread  the  land ;  a  public  conscience  is 
apparently  aroused. 

But  even  this  awakening  has  its  dangers, 
one  of  the  most  evident  of  which  is  that  a 
vicarious  conscience  is  a  cheap  and  often  a 
frightfully  mischievous  possession.  It  costs 
nothing;  it  is  often  positively  pleasurable, 
and  also  most  morally  deadening,  to  indulge 
in  spasms  of  conscience  for  other  people,  and 


MEMORIAL    DAY 

gloat  over  the  exposure  of  sins  from  which  we 
ourselves  have  been  mercifully  preserved. 

More  than  any  reform  of  abuses,  we  need, 
in  this  land  of  ours,  a  revival  of  personal  re- 
pentance which  shall  make  every  man  feel  the 
burden  of  his  own  sins,  and  make  us,  each  for 
himself,  humbly  willing  to  return  to  God  and 
seek  His  righteousness. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  wholesome  to  look  back- 
ward at  things  as  they  were,  as  some  of  us 
well  remember  them  on  the  eve  of  the  Civil 
War.  No  one  can  reasonably  pretend  that 
those  older  times  were  faultless.  Politics  were 
far  from  being  pure ;  political  controversies 
were  full  of  peculiar  bitterness,  even  the  pre- 
vailing religiousness  of  the  people  of  that  day 
was  not  without  its  taint  of  conventionality 
and  lack  of  true  Christian  brotherhood.  And 
yet,  recalling  the  days  immediately  preceding 
the  war  and  comparing  them  with  the  present 
time,  we  can  see  that  certain  things  were  pres- 
ent then  which  now  we  sorely  lack. 

Political  issues  rightly  apprehended  are  al- 
ways moral  issues.     But  the  political  questions 

[  317  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

of  that  period  were  such  that  they  were  clearly- 
seen  and  vividly  felt  as  moral  questions.  And 
what  is  of  more  consequence,  the  moral  ear- 
nestness, the  religious  fervor  needful  for  meet- 
ing those  issues  dwelt  deeply  in  the  minds  and 
hearts  of  the  people.  The  questions  before 
the  people  involved  the  right  or  wrong  of 
human  slavery,  and  back  of  that  they  involved 
the  very  life  of  the  Republic. 

Not  only  were  these  questions  large  and 
vital,  but  their  largeness  and  their  living  force 
were  so  evident  that  no  one  could  escape 
their  impact.  And  the  mass  of  the  people 
had  neither  wish  nor  thought  of  escaping  the 
responsibilities  of  the  hour. 

I  said,  a  moral  earnestness  and  a  religious 
fervor  were  present  in  the  minds  and  hearts  of 
the  people.  I  wonder  if  any  of  us  remember 
the  religious  revival  which  swept  the  land  in 
1857  and  the  following  years?  Very  different 
from  anything  which  is  now  called  "  a  revival  '* 
was  that  tidal  wave  of  spiritual  awakening. 
There  were  no  evangelists,  few  or  none  of  the 
meetings  were  advertised,  no  patent  methods 

[318] 


MEMORIAL    DAY 

were  employed,  but  a  strange  power  spread 
from  church  to  church,  from  one  community 
to  another.  There  was  little  outward  excite- 
ment, and  no  effort  made  to  produce  either 
excitement  or  sensation.  But  the  impression 
was  deep,  solemn,  searching.  I  think  it  rested 
chiefly  upon  regular  churchgoers,  —  though 
this  would  not  mean  what  it  means  to-day, 
because  non-churchgoers  in  that  time  were  few 
and  far  between. 

That  spiritual  impulse  formed  the  character 
and  remained  deep  and  strong  in  the  breasts 
of  a  multitude  of  young  men  who  a  few  years 
later  were  to  be  found  in  the  ranks  of  our 
armies ;  and  it  helped  to  color  the  thoughts 
and  feelings  and  purposes  of  the  people 
generally. 

The  Revival  of  1857  was  but  one  of  the 
fervid  impulses  of  that  time.  Every  one 
knows  something  of  the  deeply  religious  tone 
of  the  Abolitionist  propaganda,  even  when  it 
came  into  conflict  with  established  orthodoxies. 
The  very  politics  of  the  time  took  a  tone  of 
more  than  worldly  importance.     The  Kansas- 

[  319  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Nebraska  controversy  touched  the  deepest  feel- 
ing of  the  whole  country.  I  well  remember 
how  a  pastor  of  a  large  congregation  drew 
upon  himself  the  bitter  criticism  of  a  minority, 
and  awakened  the  enthusiasm  of  the  mass  of 
his  people,  by  proposing  from  his  pulpit  a 
subscription  to  buy  Sharp's  rifles  to  arm  the 
Free  State  men  in  Kansas. 

The  first  Lincoln  campaign  was  like  a  cru- 
sade with  its  strong  enthusiasm,  and  its  pro- 
cessions of  "  Wide  Awakes  "  with  their  torches 
and  semi-uniforms.  Many  a  boy  learned 
enough  miHtary  drill  in  those  processions  to 
be  of  good  service  to  him  a  few  months  later; 
and  over  and  above  the  drill  he  drank  deeply 
of  that  solemn,  that  almost  religious  spirit 
which  he  carried  with  him  into  the  army  when 
he  became  a  soldier. 

In  its  turn,  this  moral,  this  religious  fervor 
was  aided  by  the  prevailing  simplicity  of  life. 
There  were  comparatively  few  rich  men,  and 
the  richest  of  them  would  scarcely  be  counted 
wealthy  to-day.  There  was  little  luxury  even 
in  well-to-do   homes.     The  amusements  after 

[  320  ] 


MEMORIAL    DAY 

which  people  run  so  madly  to-day  were  either 
unknown  or  they  were  frowned  upon.  Life 
was  serious :  at  least,  it  was  serious  compared 
with  the  life  of  to-day. 

You,  comrades,  remember  how  largely  the 
ranks  of  our  armies  were  filled  with  boys.  It 
is  a  fact  shown  by  the  records  that  the  largest 
number  of  enlistments  were  at  the  age  of  eigh- 
teen,—  which,  as  we  well  know,  often  meant 
seventeen  or  even  sixteen.  Is  this  to  be  ac- 
counted for  on  the  score  of  mere  youthful  en- 
thusiasm or  boyish  love  of  adventure  ?  We 
who  remember,  we  who  perhaps  were  ourselves 
boys  when  we  enlisted,  would  scarcely  accept 
such  an  explanation.  We  know  that  the  boys 
still  went  into  the  army  after  the  first  enthu- 
siasm had  cooled  and  the  grim  nature  of  the 
business  of  war  had  become  sadly  evident.  It 
would  be  nearer  the  mark  to  say  that  the 
temper  of  that  time  matured  men  early.  There 
was  a  vein  of  sternness  in  that  time  ;  the  sense 
of  duty  and  of  responsibility  grew  early  in 
young  hearts. 

And   yet,  paradoxical  as   it  may   seem,   the 

[321] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

boys  remained  boys,  with  the  freshness  and 
light-heartedness  of  youth,  even  after  manhood 
overtook  them.  The  simplicity  of  their  up- 
bringing had  not  prematurely  robbed  life  of 
its  bloom.  In  a  double  sense  our  Grand 
Army  was  an  army  of  boys.  We  called  each 
other,  our  officers  called  us,  "  Boys."  And 
that  elastic  spirit  of  youth  carried  us  through 
hardship  and  suffering,  and  made  us  cheerful 
in  the  midst  of  ghastly  peril,  as  no  moulding 
of  ironclad  drill  could  have  done.  But  under- 
neath all  the  youthful  light-heartedness  the 
sense  of  duty,  the  stern  devotion  to  the  cause, 
the  high  consent  to  sacrifice  remained ;  and 
the  brightest  examples  were  often  seen  in  those 
youngest  in  years. 

Such  a  war  as  ours  was  an  awful  use  for  the 
devotion  of  such  young  manhood :  only  a 
supreme  emergency  could  justify  it.  But  men 
felt  that  the  very  life  of  the  nation  was  at 
stake ;  and  the  stern  temper  of  the  time  not 
only  justified  the  sacrifice  but  glorified  it. 
The  young  man  who  in  that  crisis  stayed  at 
home    did    not    save   his    life ;    he  risked    the 

[  322] 


MEMORIAL    DAY 

losing  of  that  self-respect  which  is  the  sweetest 
thing  in  life.  The  young  lives  given  for  God 
and  country  were  the  lives  truly  saved. 

Their  memory  has  become  a  precious  treas- 
ure, a  heritage  for  future  years.  Our  Memo- 
rial Day  is  the  reminder  of  it.  And  we  have 
need  to  recall  the  spirit  of  the  time  out  of 
which  our  Grand  Army  arose  in  order  to 
catch  the  true  spirit  and  the  real  sacredness  of 
this  Memorial  season. 

A  comparison  between  the  times  and  the 
impulses  out  of  which  our  Nation's  greatest 
sacrifices  were  made  and  the  times  in  which  we 
are  now  living  ought  also  to  be  profitable  for 
its  present-day  lesson. 

Let  us  frankly  admit  that  there  was  much 
in  that  older  period  which  we  would  not  wish 
to  call  back  again.  Let  us  thankfully  acknowl- 
edge that  the  world  has  made  a  great  advance 
during  the  almost  half  a  century  which  has 
gone  by.  Let  us  bless  God  that  the  sacrifices, 
the  blood  and  tears  of  the  generation  of  our 
youth  have  not  been  in  vain. 

And  yet  we  cannot  but  wish  that  the  higher 

[  323  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

and  finer  elements  of  that  life  of  a  former  day 
might  be  revived  and  perpetuated.  We  pay 
a  ruinous  price  for  material  prosperity  if  we 
pay  in  terms  of  cheapened  conscience,  or  loss 
of  the  sense  of  spiritual  values,  or  deadened 
fear  of  God.  We  are  buying  the  increased 
luxuries  and  comforts  of  life  very  dearly  if 
they  are  costing  us  a  lessened  willingness  for 
sacrifice  and  a  dulled  sense  of  personal  respon- 
sibility. Even  advance  in  culture  and  in 
knowledge  can  never  compensate  for  a  weak- 
ened moral  power,  a  debilitated  sense  of  duty, 
a  shrinking  from  the  hard  or  terrible  tasks  of 
manhood. 

For  such  a  nation  as  ours,  where  the  only 
real  sovereign  is  the  People,  a  certain  sternness 
in  the  purpose  and  tone  of  life  is  a  condition 
of  salvation.  And  this  must  be,  first  of  all,  a 
sternness  toward  ourselves,  a  holding  of  our 
individual  selves  up  to  the  measure  of  high 
principle  and  readiness  for  sacrifice.  Charac- 
ter in  the  citizens  is  of  far  more  importance 
in  this  Republic  than  material  wealth  or  even 
than  the  comforts  of  life. 

[324] 


MEMORIAL    DAY 

We  who  know  what  it  was  at  its  best,  cannot 
but  feel  that  a  breath  of  the  spirit  of  the  early 
sixties  would  be  of  inestimable  value  to  our 
country  to-day.  But  God  forbid  that  we 
should  doubt  that  the  spirit  of  duty  is  still 
alive  in  our  land,  even  though  to  us  it  may 
seem  to  sleep. 

When  the  writer  of  the  Book  of  Joshua 
said  that  "  Israel  served  the  Lord  all  the 
days  of  Joshua,  and  all  the  days  of  the 
elders  who  overlived  Joshua,"  he  apparently 
felt,  as  perhaps  we  may  feel  to-day,  that 
the  early  devotion  had  paled,  and  the  impulse 
of  the  great  days  of  the  past  had  spent 
itself.  But  if  he  could  have  looked  into  the 
future  he  would  have  seen  greater  glories  for 
Israel  and  higher  service  than  any  he  had 
dreamed  of. 

And  this  is  our  faith  for  our  country. 
We  cannot  believe  that  the  sacrifices  of  the 
past  shall  have  been  in  vain ;  we  trust  the 
Almighty  One  who  led  us  through  the  Red 
Sea  of  the  nation's  great  trial.  We  believe 
His  spirit  is  still  with  us,  and  that  whenever 

[325  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

new  crises  arise.  He  will  sift  us  and  purify  us, 
and  put  into  us  a  new  spirit  of  devotion  to 
duty  fit  for  the  need  of  the  hour. 

Comrades  !  the  fellowship  of  our  Order  is 
unique.  The  tie  that  binds  us  is  no  artificial 
tie,  nor  any  social  convention.  It  is  the  vital 
tie  of  the  memory  and  the  brotherhood  of  a 
great  service  in  which  we  shared  a  common  life 
and  faced  a  common  death.  And  we  remem- 
ber that  we  are  the  survivors  of  a  great  sacri- 
fice. We  feel  toward  each  other  as  I  think 
scarce  any  other  band  of  men  can  feel.  In  all 
brotherhood  and  frankness  then,  let  us  ask 
ourselves,  "  Is  the  higher  and  more  sacred 
spirit  of  the  sacrifice  and  service  which  we 
commemorate  alive  in  our  hearts  ?  Are  we 
taking  our  orders  from  the  Great  Captain  of 
our  Salvation  ?  Are  we  living  according  to 
His  commands  ?  " 

Our  ranks  are  fast  thinning  with  the  fleeting 
years. 

"  Part  of  our  host  has  crossed  the  flood, 
And  part  is  crossing  now." 

[326] 


MEMORIAL    DAY 

Memorial  Day  will  soon  include  us  in 
its  memories  and  then  "  May  we  all  be 
received  into  that  Grand  Army  above, 
where  Thou,  O  God,  art  the  Great  Com- 
mander." 


{.'h'^l  ] 


THE   BREAD    QUESTION 


And  when  His  disciples  were  come  to  the  other 
side,  they  had  forgotten  to  take  bread. 

Then  said  Jesus  unto  them.  Take  heed  and  be- 
ware of  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees  and  of  the 
Sadducees. 

And  they  reasoned  among  themselves,  saying. 
It  is  because  we  have  taken  no  bread. 

Matthew  xvi.  5—7. 


THE   BREAD   QUESTION 

Churchly  tradition  may  swathe  the  Apostles 
in  an  atmosphere  of  religious  unreality  and 
clothe  them  in  uniforms  of  official  sainthood, 
but  the  Gospels  show  us  something  diffisrent. 
The  Gospels  are  alive  with  elemental  human- 
ity ;  they  tell  of  disciples  who  were  men  of  like 
passions  with  ourselves.  Do  we  not  know 
just  how  they  felt  when  they  said,  "  It  is 
because  we  took  no  bread"  —  because  we  for- 
got! 

Have  we  not  felt  the  sudden  blankness,  the 
vexation  with  ourselves,  the  miserable  sense 
of  petty  shame  when  we  have  discovered  that 
we  have  forgotten  ? 

But  when  we  understand  why  the  disciples 
forgot  to  take  bread,  then  the  story  grows 
upon  us ;  we  begin  to  feel  its  touch  of  tragedy. 
Not  simple  carelessness  or  inattention  caused 
the  forgetful ness,  but  poignant  sympathy  with 
their  Master. 

[  331  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

In  company  with  Him  they  had  just  passed 
through  a  stormy  scene.  Certain  Pharisees 
and  Sadducees,  a  committee  sent  from  the  seat 
of  government,  had  been  investigating  Jesus, 
prying  with  no  friendly  intent  into  His  ortho- 
doxy, asking  —  and  the  asking  had  a  threat  in 
it  —  for  a  sign  from  heaven  to  prove  His  right 
to  teach  and  work  mighty  works. 

With  cutting  severity  Jesus  had  rebuked  his 
inquisitors.  He  had  refused  to  be  judged  by 
them.  He  said  to  them,  "A  wicked  and 
adulterous  generation  seeketh  after  a  sign,  and 
there  shall  no  sign  be  given  unto  it  but  the 
sign  of  the  prophet  Jonas."  And  then  he 
left  them  and  departed. 

Perhaps  you  can  put  yourselves  in  the  dis- 
ciples* place,  and  with  them  feel  the  agitation 
of  that  moment.  When  they  stepped  into  the 
boat  to  carry  Jesus  across  the  lake,  they  were 
starting  on  no  picnic  party.  Even  such  a 
necessary  as  bread  went  clean  out  of  mind. 
And  no  wonder!     They  were  just  human. 

And  now  their  human  nature  shows  itself  in 
a  fresh  way.     They  prove  themselves  children 

[  332] 


THE    BREAD    QUESTION 

of  their  day,  moulded  by  the  opinion  of  their 
time  and  their  race.  To  accept  bread  from  a 
person  was  confession  of  fellowship  with  him. 
It  was,  to  say  the  least,  awkward  to  accept 
bread  from  an  enemy.  When  Jesus  said, 
"  Beware  of  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees  and 
of  the  Sadducees,"  he  seemed  to  them  to  say, 
"  You  have  forgotten  to  take  bread.  We  must 
now  run  the  risk  of  going  hungry.  After 
what  has  passed  we  cannot  accept  bread  from 
either  Pharisees  or  Sadducees.**  And  they 
did  what  men  in  all  ages  have  done,  —  they 
interpreted  the  words  of  Jesus  according  to 
the  ideas  of  their  time,  and  thereby  they  took 
themselves  as  far  away  as  possible  from  His 
actual  meaning.  Jesus,  when  He  spoke,  was 
thinking  of  one  thing ;  and  the  disciples,  as 
they  listened,  imagined  that  they  heard  Him 
say  another  and  quite  a  different  thing.  They 
thought  he  was  rebuking  their  forgetfulness  of 
that  which  seems  the  most  practical  and  press- 
ing of  all  things  in  our  earthly  life. 

The  Bread  Question  is  always  with  us.     It 
lies  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  work  and  business 

[  333  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

and  enterprise  of  this  world.  The  great  finan- 
cial problems,  always  so  pressing  and  often  so 
threatening,  are,  after  all,  only  phases  of  the 
Bread  Question. 

All  the  activities  of  human  life  are  set  in 
motion  and  kept  going  by  the  necessity  of 
daily  food.  When  the  bare  necessity  is  satis- 
fied, what  is  left  over  goes  toward  those  com- 
forts and  luxuries  which  make  up  the  material 
side  of  civilization.  But  in  spite  of  the  com- 
fort and  luxury  so  much  in  evidence  in  the 
world  of  our  day,  it  is  still  true  that  a  large 
proportion  of  mankind  live  close  to  actual 
want.  The  Bread  Question  still  comes  home 
to  multitudes  directly  and  by  no  round-about 
way. 

If  human  nature  could  be  changed  so  that 
food  were  no  longer  needed,  if  the  Bread 
Question  could  be  wiped  off  the  slate  of 
human  life,  society  would  be  revolutionized 
from  top  to  bottom.  An  inconceivable  change 
would  be  wrought  in  the  whole  life  of  the 
world. 

As  it  is,  the  Bread  Question  is  not  only 
[  334  ] 


THE    BREAD    QUESTION 

always  with  us,  but  constantly  it  thrusts  itself 
upon  us  as  though  it  were  the  most  serious  of 
all  human  questions. 

Jesus'  treatment  of  the  Bread  Question  is 
most  remarkable.  At  first  sight  He  appears 
to  minimize  its  importance ;  in  fact,  He  seems 
impatient,  almost  contemptuous,  of  the  Bread 
Question.  We  hear  Him  say,  "  Lay  not  up 
for  yourselves  treasures  upon  earth."  "Take 
no  thought  what  ye  shall  eat."  We  recall 
His  parable,  so  scornful  of  the  man  whose 
bursting  barns  contained  provision  for  many 
years.  And  now  we  hear  Him  rebuking  His 
disciples  because  they  could  imagine  that  He 
cared  for  such  a  trifle  as  forgetful ness  to  take 
bread. 

But  a  little  reflection  will  quickly  dispel  the 
hasty,  first  impression.  Jesus  neither  ignored 
nor  belittled  the  Bread  Question.  On  the 
contrary.  He  asserted  its  large  importance.  In 
the  same  breath  in  which  He  forbade  anxiety 
concerning  bodily  wants  He  declared,  "Your 
Heavenly  Father  knoweth  that  ye  have  need 
of  these  things."     He  commands  us  to  "  seek 

[  335] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

first  the  Kingdom  of  God  and  His  righteous- 
ness, and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto 
you. 

Again  the  first  impression  is  that  Jesus, 
though  He  may  yield  a  certain  importance  to 
the  Bread  Question,  puts  it  and  all  that  goes 
with  it  in  subordinate  place,  and  bids  us  regard 
it  only  as  an  humble  second  consideration  in 
the  management  of  our  lives.  And  again  the 
first  impression  misses  the  largeness  of  the 
teaching  of  Jesus. 

His  teaching  is,  in  reality,  startling.  He 
denies  that  we  have  anything  to  do  with  the 
Bread  Question.  He  asserts  that  it  never  was, 
and  never  can  be,  a  concern  of  ours.  He 
does  not  make  it  subordinate  to  other  ques- 
tions, but  He  teaches  that  it  is  out  of  our 
reach  and  none  of  our  business.  He  lifts  the 
Bread  Question  up  into  the  almighty  care  of 
Divine  Power  and  Divine  Love. 

The  practical  things  for  us,  so  Jesus  teaches, 
are  not  worry  over  or  planning  for  the  where- 
withal we  shall  be  fed.  The  things  that  lie 
within  our  power  of  planning  and   doing  are 

[336] 


THE    BREAD    QUESTION 

the  things  of  the  Kingdom  of  God  and  His 
righteousness. 

And  is  not  this  absolutely  true  ?  Bread  is 
made  of  grain.  Does  the  farmer  make  the 
grain  ?  Does  he  even,  in  any  true  sense, 
"  grow  "  the  grain  ?  But  what  does  he  do  ? 
He  tries  to  learn  the  laws — God's  laws  —  of 
the  growth  of  grain,  and  then  he  conforms  his 
doing  and  his  work  to  those  laws. 

But  with  his  seed  selection  and  his  fertilizer 
and  his  cultivation  does  he  not  help  nature  — 
or  God  ?  No  !  He  does  but  seek  deeper  into 
the  Kingdom  of  God.  Not  one  single  thing 
can  he  do  outside  the  Kingdom  of  God,  with 
its  laws  of  life  and  growth.  In  faithful  seeking 
and  righteous  obedience  he  works  and  waits 
for  a  result  which  God  alone  can  give. 

Men  make  discoveries  or  inventions.  What 
are  these  but  seeking  the  Kingdom  of  God  ? 
Wireless  telegraphy,  for  example.  Has  Mar- 
coni made  anything  new?  No!  He  and 
others  have  by  right  seeking  discovered  cer- 
tain facts  concerning  one  of  the  most  awful 
and  spiritual  forces  of  the  universe ;  they  have 

[  337  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

discovered  attributes  of  electricity  which,  applied 
in  the  right  way,  according  to  the  laws  of  God*s 
Kingdom,  enable  us  to  speak  to  each  other 
through  the  air  across  seas  and  continents. 

In  such  a  prosy,  apparently  unspiritual  busi- 
ness as  banking  there  are  laws,  not  all  of  which 
are  in  the  statute  books,  but  principles  of 
mathematical  and  eternal  justice  and  righteous- 
ness that  must  be  sought,  known,  and  obeyed 
on  penalty  of  failure  in  the  business. 

If  we  could  follow  out  the  teaching  of  Jesus, 
we  should  find  it  true  in  every  department  of 
human  work, — in  the  highest  and  most  com- 
plex, in  the  most  far-reaching  and  daring 
enterprises  of  human  industry  as  truly  as  in 
the  most  simple.  We  make  a  wretched  and 
damaging  mistake  when  we  imagine  that  the 
Kingdom  of  God  reigns  only  in  the  religious 
emotions.  The  Kingdom  of  God  governs  all 
our  doing  in  this  world.  It  concerns  itself  with 
every  man's  daily  life  and  business,  with  the 
work  of  the  farmer  and  the  mechanic  and  the 
financier  alike.  We  must  seek  out  and  con- 
form   ourselves    to    the   law  of  nature  in  the 

[338] 


THE    BREAD    QUESTION 

world  and  man  if  we  would  accomplish  any- 
thing worth  our  doing.  And  what  we  call  the 
"  law  of  nature  "  is  but  a  clumsy  name  for  the 
Law  of  the  Kingdom  of  God.  The  results  of 
our  work  are  imperfect  because  we  do  not 
know  all  the  ways  of  the  Kingdom. 

And  there  is  a  blessing  in  our  very  ignorance. 
It  compels  us  to  seek,  and  the  seeking  develops 
our  powers.  More  than  that,  seeking  the  right 
way  to  do  what  must  be  done  brings  us  near 
Our  Father.  Seeking  the  right  way  to  do  the 
things  given  us  to  do  in  our  daily  work  is  seek- 
ing the  righteousness  of  God.  And  doing  a 
thing  in  the  right  way  because  it  is  right  is 
seeking  first  His  Kingdom,  whether  the  thing 
to  be  done  is  a  piece  of  carpenter  work  or  a 
great  financial  transaction. 

But  when  we  think  more  of  the  wages  we 
hope  to  receive  than  of  the  honesty  of  our 
work,  when  we  set  our  minds  upon  the  other 
things  to  be  added  unto  us  and  employ  our 
seeking  in  a  grasping  effort  to  anticipate  these 
things,  then  we  meddle  with  the  Bread  Ques- 
tion ;  we  tamper  with  the  order  of  the  King- 

[  339  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

dom  of  God,  and  our  fingers  are  sure  to  be 
burnt.  Then,  for  our  very  salvation,  God 
sends  us  trouble,  warning  us  away  from  the 
danger  zone  on  which  we  are  trespassing. 

We  are  emerging  from  the  whirl  of  a  strange 
and  destructive  panic,  a  panic  which  appeared 
to  be  absolutely  without  reason.  The  country 
was  rich  as  it  never  had  been  before  in  all  that 
makes  for  worldly  wealth.  Crops  had  been 
good  during  a  succession  of  years.  We  were 
at  peace  with  the  world.  Endless  enterprises 
demanded  the  employment  of  the  industry  of 
all  the  people.  And  all  at  once  things  went  to 
pieces.  Rich  men  were  made  poor,  and  many 
who  had  been  comfortable  were  doomed  to 
want  and  suffering. 

Of  course,  various  causes  for  the  panic  are 
assigned.  Blame  is  visited  on  this  or  that 
man  or  set  of  men.  There  are  theories  in 
plenty,  as  naturally  there  must  be.  But  ask 
yourself  now  !  If  instead  of  that  covetous 
grasping  after  pay  before  it  is  due,  which  has 
poisoned  the  lives  of  our  people  rich  and  poor 
alike ;  if,  instead  of  meddling  with  the  Bread 

[  340] 


THE    BREAD    QUESTION 

Question,  the  people  of  this  land  had  had  their 
minds  set  upon  faithfully  doing  the  work  God 
gave  them  to  do,  and  their  hearts  set  upon 
doing  it  righteously  because  it  was  their 
Father's  work,  —  would  the  disaster  have 
come  !  If  men  in  the  workshops  had  cared 
most  of  all  for  honest  workmanship,  and  men 
in  the  market-place  had  held  the  justice  of 
human  brotherhood  high  above  personal  ad- 
vantage, would  there  have  been  any  panic, 
and  would  this  country  and  this  people  have 
been  the  poorer  for  seeking  first  the  Kingdom 
of  God  and  His  righteousness  ? 

A  curious  product  of  meddling  with  the 
Bread  Question  is  a  state  of  mind  which  can 
only  be  described  as  a  mental  and  moral  lazi- 
ness. It  may  seem  absurd  to  suggest  anything 
like  laziness  as  a  fault  of  the  intense  activity  of 
our  time.  But  the  anticipative  temper  which 
reaches  after  results  before  they  are  earned,  is 
scarcely  conducive  to  thinking  things  out  with 
honest  thoroughness  of  mental  pains.  The 
patient  labor  needed  in  searching  out  right 
ways   in  business  or  public  affairs,  the  bright 

[3+1] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

willingness  for  righteous  tasks  which  do  not 
promise  to  be  quickly  paying,  is  not  conge- 
nial when  we  have  accustomed  ourselves  to 
dabbling  with  the  easier,  though  dangerous 
things  which  are  none  of  our  business.  May 
it  not  be  possible  that  our  pride  in  our 
"  push  "  and  "  hustle,"  and  our  boast  of  our 
facility  in  getting  things  done,  is,  after  all,  little 
more  than  the  garrulity  of  a  mental  laziness 
unwilHng  to  set  itself  to  the  task  of  working 
out  the  sum  of  future  consequences  ? 

And  this  mental  laziness,  which  is  itself  an 
immorality,  begets  the  deeper  sin  of  moral 
laziness.  When  we  begin  to  see  that  things 
are  working  themselves  out  unrighteously,  it 
requires  an  effort  not  too  willingly  made  to 
pause  in  the  gait  we  have  grown  used  to, 
and  check  our  inertia,  and  set  ourselves  to 
seeking  first  the  Kingdom  of  God  and  His 
righteousness. 

The  tangles  of  our  affairs,  the  waste  of  our 
resources,  the  troubles  of  our  times,  have  prob- 
ably come  not  so  much  from  deliberate  wicked- 
ness as  from  unwillingness  to  face  the  pains  and 

[342] 


THE    BREAD    QUESTION 

costs  of  right  thinking  and  right  doing.  And 
if  the  check  to  our  prosperity  shall  compel  us 
to  stop  our  selfish,  ineffectual,  and  perilous 
meddling  with  the  Bread  Question  and  turn 
our  activities  into  channels  where  they  may 
safely  and  righteously  run,  then  we  shall  have 
reason  to  thank  God  for  His  Fatherly 
judgments. 

The  Lord  Jesus  did  not  belittle  the  Bread 
Question.  Far  from  it.  In  that  mighty  work 
of  His  which  all  the  four  Evangelists  describe, 
in  that  Sacrament  of  the  Loaves  when  Jesus 
fed  the  five  thousand,  He  was  showing  us  the 
Father.  He  was  renewing  on  the  Galilean 
hillside  God's  primal  pledge  of  provision  for 
the  earthly  needs  of  His  earthly  children. 

Agitated  by  the  conflict  between  their  Master 
and  the  agents  of  the  rulers,  the  disciples  for- 
got to  take  bread.  Jesus  bids  them  beware 
of  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees  and  of  the 
Sadducees.  They  imagine  He  is  blaming  them 
for  not  taking  care  of  the  Bread  Question.  But 
listen  to  His  answer  to  their  foolish  fears : 
"  Oh  ye  of  little  faith  !     Why  reason  ye  among 

[  343  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

yourselves  because  ye  have  brought  no  bread? 
Do  ye  not  yet  understand  neither  remember 
the  five  loaves  of  the  five  thousand  and  how 
many  baskets  ye  took  up  ?  Neither  the  seven 
loaves  of  the  four  thousand  and  how  many 
baskets  ye  took  up?  How  is  it  that  ye  do 
not  understand  that  I  spake  it  not  concerning 
bread  that  ye  should  beware  of  the  leaven  of 
the  Pharisees  and  of  the  Sadducees  ?  " 

No  !  Jesus  neither  belittled  nor  ignored  the 
Bread  Question.  He  lifted  it  up  and  showed 
these  disciples  and  us  that  the  Bread  Question 
is  not  ours  because  it  belongs  to  God.  He 
taught  them,  and  He  teaches  us,  that  this 
question  so  near  our  very  lives  rests  safe  under 
the  pledge  of  Almighty  Power  and  Love. 

Jesus  brought  the  disciples  back  from  their 
useless  anxieties  to  the  real  and  practical  things, 
to  the  questions  Vv^ithin  the  power  of  their 
answering.  He  made  them  face  the  question 
of  their  own  conduct  under  the  stress  of  an 
actual  and  immiediate  temptation. 

The  leaven  of  the  Pharisees  and  of  the 
Sadducees  is  the  corrupting  germ  which  spir- 

[  344  ] 


THE    BREAD    QUESTION 

itual  presumption  insinuates  into  the  most 
intimate  relations  between  God  and  His  chil- 
dren. Its  root  is  the  same  foolish  belief  in 
human  ability  to  provide  daily  bread ;  but  the 
belief  has  grown  arrogant.  It  assumes  that 
men  can  provide  their  own  spiritual  food.  The 
leaven  of  the  Pharisees  and  of  the  Sadducees 
thrust  itself  upon  the  appetites  and  the  neces- 
sities of  men  in  that  day,  and  therefore  Jesus 
anxiously  warns  his  disciples. 

The  Pharisees  were  orthodox  in  doctrine, 
strict  in  religious  observance,  earnest  in  faith 
and  practice.  But  their  religion  was  an  end 
and  not  a  means.  They  worshipped  worship, 
they  served  service,  they  were  zealous  for  an 
artificial  "  law."  Their  very  earnestness  be- 
came a  self-deceit.  Without  realizing  what 
they  were  doing  they  were  actually  worshipping 
worship  and  service  and  the  law,  instead  of 
worshipping  God.  Their  religion  had  become 
a  vast  snare  of  insincerities. 

The  Sadducees  are  less  distinctly  etched 
upon  the  gospel  page,  but  we  see  them  as 
sceptics   concerning   the   resurrection   and    the 

[  345  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

larger  life  beyond  this  world.  We  catch  an 
impression  of  them  as  men  scornful  of  sa- 
cred things,  contemptuous  of  moral  scruples, 
haughty,  self-sufficient.  The  Sadducees  were 
members  of  the  High  Priest's  party,  —  the 
worldly,  intriguing,  power-grasping  party  in  the 
Jewish  nation.  Pretending  to  believe  in  God, 
affecting  reverence  for  the  simple  Law  of 
Moses,  their  real  God  was  success,  and  their 
real  worship  was  the  worship  of  worldly  wealth 
and  luxury. 

We  hear  the,^voice  of  Jesus  saying,  "Take 
heed,  beware  of  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees  and 
of  the  Sadducees  ! "  Does  His  word  sound 
like  some  far-off  cry  against  sins  of  ancient 
Jews  ?  Or  do  we  recognize  the  universal  note 
which  echoes  always  from  the  words  of  Jesus  ? 

You  can  have  the  essence  of  Phariseeism 
without  its  phylacteries  and  its  solemn  robes. 
When  religion  becomes  a  conventionality  in- 
stead of  a  Godliness  ;  when  the  Church  sinks 
into  the  place  of  a  mere  institution  sufficient 
unto  itself,  and  the  manner  of  the  preacher's 
preaching,  or  the  order  of  the  service,  or  the 

[346] 


THE    BREAD    QUESTION 

Style  of  the  music,  or  the  working  of  the 
wheels  of  "  church  work  "  becomes  The  Thing 
Itself,  taking  God's  place,  —  what  is  that  but 
the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees  ? 

And  this  cold  belief  in  the  adequacy  of 
worldly  resources  for  the  work  of  Christ's 
Church,  this  presumptuous  assumption  of  the 
ability  of  human  knowledge  to  settle  all  ques- 
tions about  the  truth  of  God,  this  narrowing 
of  men's  horizon  to  the  limits  of  passing 
things  on  this  little  earth,  this  practical  mate- 
rialism which  corrodes  the  lives  and  character 
even  of  God's  own  children,  —  what  is  that 
but  the  leaven  of  the  Sadducees  ? 

Religion,  by  itself,  is  a  negative  thing.  Re- 
ligion is  good  when  it  is  content  to  serve  in  the 
temple  of  our  souls  ;  when  it  humbly  lights 
the  lamp  of  God's  truth  and  opens  the  win- 
dows to  let  in  the  sunshine  of  His  love.  Re- 
ligion is  an  awful  mockery,  a  hollow  emptiness, 
nay,  a  corrupt  and  corrupting  thing,  when  it 
hides  God  with  its  own  pretentious  bulk. 

And  this  world,  God's  world,  this  expres- 
sion   of  Himself,   full    of  reflections    of   His 

[  347  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

Truth  and  Beauty,  and  full  of  the  wondrous 
working  of  His  righteous  Law  !  —  When  men 
grasp  the  outside  things  of  God's  world  and 
claim  them  for  their  own,  and  quarrel  for  the 
very  husks  and  shells  of  the  world,  and  fling 
on  high  the  dust  made  by  their  destructive 
tramplings  until  they  hide  God  behind  its 
foul  cloud,  —  what  treason  is  that ! 

When  Christ's  disciples  partake  of  the 
leaven  of  the  Pharisees  and  of  the  Sadducees, 
can  you  wonder  if  men  stand  aloof  from  His 
Church  and  with  cold  disdain  refuse  to  listen 
to  her  call  ? 

The  passion  of  the  soul  of  Jesus  is  a  passion 
for  sincerity,  for  reality.  His  warning  cry  is 
sure  to  sound  out  against  anything  that  threat- 
ens to  hide  our  vision  of  God.  With  all  the 
mighty  desire  of  His  Holy  Soul  He  longs  to 
bring  us  simply,  clearly,  face  to  face  with  Our 
Father. 

And  it  IS  piain  common-sense  to  affirm  that 
for  our  country,  for  the  world,  for  your  soul 
and  mine,  this  is  a  more  practical  matter  than 
the  finding  of  our  daily  bread.     Because,  neces- 

[348] 


THE    BREAD    QUESTION 

sary  as  our  daily  bread  is,  the  providing  of  it 
is  taken  out  of  our  hands.  We  hunt  wind- 
mills when  we  imagine  we  can  do  it  for  our- 
selves. 

But  this  other  thing,  this  gaining  clear  vis- 
ion and  getting  into  right  relations  with  Our 
Father,  is  within  our  power.  This  is  the  work 
God  has  given  us  to  do.  His  Spirit  waits  to 
aid  us ;  and  on  our  doing  of  this,  on  our  seek- 
ing first  the  Kingdom  of  God  and  His  right- 
eousness, everything  else  depends. 

In  this  world,  which  is  God's  world  and  an 
expression  of  His  love  and  law  and  truth,  you, 
a  child  of  God,  cannot  live  happily  or  safely 
while  you  hide  yourself,  or  allow  mere  things 
or  men's  opinions  to  hide  you  from  Him. 

May  He  send  abroad  His  Mighty  Spirit  of 
Truth  with  power,  to  open  our  eyes  and  bring 
us  to  repentance  for  our  sin  and  folly  ! 


[  349] 


THE   MYSTERY    OF   TIME 


Lord,  Thou  hast  been  our  dwelling  place  in 
all  generations. 

Before  the  mountains  were  brought  forth,  or  ever 
Thou  hadst  formed  the  earth  and  the  world,  even 
from  everlasting  to  everlasting.  Thou  art  God. 

Thou  turnest  man  to  destruction  ;  and  sayest. 
Return,   ye    children   of  men. 

For  a  thousand  years  in  Thy  sight  are  but  as 
yesterday  when  it  is  past,  and  as  a  watch  in  the 
night.  —  Psalm  xc.  1—4. 


THE   MYSTERY   OF   TIME 

The  Ninetieth  is  the  most  sublime  of  all  the 
Psalms.  The  other  Psalms  have  a  beauty  of 
their  own,  but  none  of  them  equal  the  majesty 
of  this  Prayer  of  Moses,  the  Man  of  God. 

The  Ninetieth  is  also  one  of  the  most 
familiar  of  the  Psalms.  It  commonly  forms 
part  of  the  funeral  service.  And  the  reason 
why  it  is  thus  used  is  not  because  of  its  mel- 
ancholy, but  because  it  so  powerfully  lifts  our 
thought  and  feeling  away  from  the  fleeting, 
passing  things  of  earth  up  to  God's  eternity 
and  the  calm  hope  that  glows  in  His  unchang- 
ing love.  For  a  similar  reason  this  Psalm  is 
also  appropriate  for  such  a  season  as  the  New 
Year. 

There  is  something  not  only  solemn  but 
agitating  in  the  period  made  by  the  New  Year. 
The  New  Year's  day  divides  the  past  from 
the  present ;  it  draws  a  sharp  line  between  the 
has  been  and  the  may  be.     It  compels  us  to 

23  [  353  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

think  of  what  is  gone  forever;  it  brings  us 
face  to  face  with  the  unknown  possibilities  of 
what  is  to  come. 

Every  new  day  does  this ;  each  night  when 
we  lie  down  to  rest  marks  something  that  has 
slipped  away  beyond  our  grasp,  and  each 
morning  sunrise  opens  a  new  unwritten  and 
unknown  chapter  in  our  lives.  The  New 
Year  does  the  same  thing,  only  in  a  larger 
and  therefore  more  searching  and  disturbing 
manner.  It  compels  us  to  think,  not  simply 
of  yesterday,  but  of  a  whole  year  of  yesterdays 
past  and  gone.  Few  of  us  can  look  back  over 
a  year  of  yesterdays  without  being  reminded 
of  things  that  have  made  a  difference  in  our 
lives. 

The  new  year  also  compels  us  to  look  for- 
ward, not  simply  toward  to-morrow,  but  into 
the  unknown  possibilities  of  three  hundred 
and  sixty-five  to-morrows.  It  matters  little 
that  no  vision  of  ours  can  pierce  those  mor- 
rows ;  the  very  fact  of  the  New  Year  projects 
the  shadow  of  these  morrows  before  our  faces. 
We  wish  each  other  a  Happy  New  Year.     It 

[354] 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    TIME 

is  a  good,  a  kindly  wish ;  yet  the  wishing  of 
it  is  a  confession  that  the  New  Year  contains 
possibilities  beyond  our  power  to  reach  with 
anything  more  than  kindly  wishes.  The  New 
Year  brings  us  face  to  face  with  the  ever  pres- 
ent Mystery  of  Time.  Ordinarily  we  live  in 
the  present,  and  it  is  well  for  us  that  we  must 
do  so.  Our  duties,  our  work  in  life  require 
our  presence  in  the  present.  But  it  is  a  mis- 
take to  depreciate  the  past,  and  a  greater  mis- 
take to  be  unmindful  of  the  future. 

The  past  is  our  school  —  or,  rather,  it  is 
our  library  of  reference  stored  with  lessons  of 
experience.  The  future  contains  our  hopes. 
All  growth  and  advancement  belongs  to  the 
future.  What  we  are,  is  carried  into  the  future 
along  with  all  the  possibilities  of  what  we  may 
become.  Both  past  and  present  take  their 
meaning  from  what  is  before  us  in  the  future. 

It  is  right  to  live  in  the  present.  To  live  only 
for  the  present  is  narrow  and  debasing.  There 
are  those  who  try  to  do  so,  and  they  shrivel 
their  own  souls  thereby.  But  no  human  being 
ever  really  succeeds   in   living  in   the  fleeting 

[  355  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

present.  The  yesterdays  and  the  to-morrows 
leave  their  mark  upon  us  all.  Our  life  is, 
after  all,  in  the  yesterdays  and  the  to-morrows ; 
the  present  is  never  anything  more  than  a 
moving  point.  To-day  is  the  future  of  yes- 
terday and  the  past  of  to-morrow.  And  this 
is  the  Mystery  of  Time.  The  most  energetic, 
the  most  fiercely,  impatiently  busy  man  cannot 
hurry  time ;  the  most  indolent  cannot  stay 
time.  With  unvarying  rhythm,  with  remorse- 
less, unhurried,  yet  ceaseless  tread  time  carries 
us  all  onward.  We  never  "  have  time  "  ;  time 
forever  has  us,  and  holds  us  in  an  iron  grip 
whether  we  will  or  no.  There  is  something 
infinitely  wearying,  yea,  terrifying  in  the  cease- 
less successions  of  time.  The  restlessness, 
the  fever  and  the  fret  of  life,  its  uncertainties, 
its  anxieties,  are  all  the  inevitable  result  of  the 
dealing  of  Time  with  us.  But  the  very  rest- 
lessness and  weariness  are  an  instinctive  revolt 
of  our  souls  against  the  tyranny  of  Time  ;  they 
are  the  cry  of  a  life  within  our  life  which  is 
not  an  ever  moving  point. 

The  regrets  and  the  longings  with  which  we 
[356] 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    TIME 

come  to  a  period  like  that  of  the  new  year ; 
the  hopes  and  fears  which  mark  time  so  dis- 
tinctly, which  bring  us  so  sharply  face  to  face 
with  its  mysteries  ;  the  protest  against  Time 
which  the  new  year  raises  in  our  soul,  —  are 
evidences  of  a  spirit  working  in  us  with  a  power 
of  liberty  larger  than  Time  can  hold. 

And  this  brings  us  back  to  our  text,  "  Lord, 
Thou  hast  been  our  dwelling  place  in  all 
generations."  Perhaps,  when  Moses  wrote 
this,  he  was  thinking  of  the  way  in  which  God 
had  always  been  with  His  people  Israel.  But 
if  that  was  all  his  thought,  then  he  wrote  larger 
than  he  knew.  I  do  not  believe  it  could  have 
been  all  his  thought ;  he  does  not  say,  "  God 
has  always  been  with  us  "  ;  he  says,  We  have 
always  been  in  God.  "  ^hou  hast  been  our 
dwelling-place.**  Our  life  is  in  Thee.  And  who 
is  He  in  whom  we  have  our  dwelling-place? 
He  is  not  a  child  of  Time  :  "  Before  the  moun- 
tains were  brought  forth,  or  ever  Thou  hadst 
formed  the  earth  and  the  world,  even  from 
everlasting  to  everlasting.  Thou  art  God." 

In  contrast  are  we,  children  of  Time.  "Thou 
[  357  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

turnest  man  to  destruction  and  sayest,  Return, 
ye  children  of  men." 

John  Calvin  has  a  wonderful  comment  upon 
this  verse.  He  says :  "  The  Psalmist  com- 
pares the  course  of  our  life  to  a  ring ;  because 
God  placing  us  upon  earth  turneth  us  about 
in  a  narrow  compass,  and  when  we  come  to  the 
last  point  of  our  life,  then  plucketh  He  us  back 
to  Himself  in  a  moment." 

He  is  our  dwelling-place  in  all  generations,  — 
He,  the  Eternal  One  who  was,  before  the 
mountains  were  brought  forth.  He  places  us 
in  the  ring  of  Time,  whence  we  return  into  His 
Eternity. 

The  restlessness  which  we  experience  in  Time 
is  not  wholly  Time's  work  with  us  ;  it  is  not 
simply  the  weariness  of  the  hurry  of  fleeting 
days  and  quickly  recurring  new  years.  It  is 
the  revolt  of  a  nature  meant  for  something  else; 
it  is  the  protest  of  a  life  whose  real  home  is  in 
the  bosom  of  God  and  His  Eternity. 

Sometimes  we  hear  things  said  which  seem 
to  imply  that  the  activities  of  our  life  belong 
to  this  world,  and  the  hoped-for   rest   at  the 

[358] 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    TIME 

close  of  earthly  life,  a  sort  of  everlasting  in- 
dolence. This  is  far  from  what  is  either  taught 
or  implied  in  Holy  Scripture. 

God  is  not  idle.  God  is  the  Great  Doer. 
But  His  doing  is  different  from  the  feverish 
haste  of  the  doing  which  belongs  to  Time. 
With  Him,  "  A  thousand  years  are  like  yes- 
terday when  it  is  past,  and  as  a  watch  in  the 
night." 

We,  with  our  limitations,  must  speak  of 
eternity  in  terms  of  time.  The  text  is  an  illus- 
tration, but  what  an  illustration  !  How  near 
are  the  past  and  gone  yesterdays,  how  brief 
their  hours  seem  as  we  look  back  upon  them  ! 
We  lose  the  sense  of  duration  when  we  look 
backward.  Days  that  are  gone  seem  like  mo- 
ments. In  God's  sight,  in  His  looking  back- 
ward, a  thousand  years  are  like  yesterday  when 
it  is  past.  They  are  like  a  flash  of  memory  ! 
They  are  like  a  watch  in  the  night.  Now,  that 
is  a  Hebrew  phrase  for  an  hour  of  the  night, 
an  hour  passed  in  sleep.  Did  you  ever  notice 
how  you  will  sometimes  wake  up  from  a  dream 
in   which   you   seem   to   have   passed   through 

[  359  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

hours  or  even  days  of  action,  and  as  you  wake 
you  hear  the  clock  strike,  and  you  discover 
that  your  dream  was  really  an  affair  of  only  a 
few  moments  when  measured  by  time?  Or, 
perhaps,  healthily  tired,  you  fall  sound  asleep, 
and  when  you  are  awakened  by  the  rays  of  the 
morning  sun  streaming  in  at  your  window,  you 
feel  as  though  it  were  only  an  hour  ago  that 
you  laid  yourself  down  upon  your  bed.  In  the 
night  watches  we  lose  the  sense  of  duration. 
Sleep  is  a  foretaste  of  the  mystery  of  eternity 
cast  across  the  Mystery  of  Time. 

The  illustration  in  the  Psalm  is  indeed  in 
terms  of  time,  with  its  thousand  years  like  past 
and  gone  yesterday,  and  its  watch  in  the  night ; 
but  an  illustration  in  temporal  terms  so  chosen 
as  to  make  us  understand  that  these  years  of 
God's  Eternity  are  like  the  things  which  though 
in  Time  are  most  unlike  Time ;  like  the  yes- 
terdays and  the  night  watches  in  which  the 
sense  of  successive  hours  and  minutes  becomes 
blurred  and  almost  lost.  God  is  a  Doer,  but 
His  doing  is  not  hampered  and  hindered  by 
Time's  successive  rhythms. 

[360] 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    TIME 

Now  the  active  use  of  our  powers  is  not,  in 
itself,  a  weariness.  What  wearies  and  wears  is 
partly  our  blindness,  which  makes  our  doing  a 
series  of  anxious  and  uncertain  experiments ; 
and  even  more  the  fact  that,  blind  as  we  are, 
we  must  also  work  against  the  cruel,  remorse- 
less march  of  Time. 

One  of  the  regrets  of  the  new  year's  period 
is  that  the  old  year  has  gone,  leaving  so  many 
things  unfinished  or  undone,  —  not  always  be- 
cause of  our  neglect,  but  because  our  powers 
were  too  feeble  to  grasp  and  conquer  our  op- 
portunities while  we  remained  bound  in  the 
ring  of  Time. 

If  our  powers  were  developed,  if  our  souls 
were  but  free  to  use  their  powers  unhindered, 
if  we  could  but  see  clearly  and  work  without 
hurry,  what  joy,  what  exultation  would  be 
ours !  What  rest,  not  in  idleness,  but  in 
highest,  most  glorious,  most  intense  doing  ! 

This  noblest  of  blessings  is  ours  in  foretaste^ 
and  shall,  when  our  childhood  in  time  is  ac- 
complished, be  ours  in  full,  because  the  Eter- 
nal God  is  ours  and  we  are  His.     He  is  our 

[  361  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

dwelling-place  in  all  generations ;  our  life  is 
hid  with  Him  in  whose  sight  a  thousand  years 
are  like  yesterday  when  it  is  past  and  as  a 
watch  in  the  night. 

The  discipline  of  Time  is  ours  now,  for  a 
little  while,  with  its  passing  old  and  its  coming 
new  years.  Part  of  the  discipline  is  the  with- 
held knowledge  of  the  full  meaning  of  its  proc- 
ess. Time  has  its  mysteries  as  hard  to  fathom 
—  yea,  even  harder  to  penetrate  than  those  of 
eternity.  The  things  we  know  as  really  alive, 
and  great  because  alive,  are  not  things  of  Time. 
Truth,  righteousness,  love,  beauty,  are  the 
bright  children  of  Eternity,  too  large  for  Time 
to  hold,  too  splendid  in  their  living  power  for 
Time  to  measure ;  yet  even  here  in  Time  these 
visitants  from  Eternity  are  the  realities  which 
alone  give  life  a  worthy  meaning. 

We  can  see  this  much  of  the  meaning  of  the 
discipline  of  Time ;  we  can  see  that  it  must 
consist  in  living  out  these  principles  of  eternal 
life  in  the  midst  of  passing  things  of  earthly 
days  and  years.  The  discipline  of  Time  is  a 
training  in  reality,  a  test  which  tries  our  souls. 

[362] 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    TIME 

To  seek  for  truth,  to  strive  after  righteous- 
ness, to  learn  the  experience  and  the  practice 
of  the  love  of  God,  to  live  the  eternal  life  in 
the  midst  of  the  hurry  of  the  ring  of  Time,  — 
this  is  not  easy,  but  this  must  be  the  instinct 
and  the  ambition  of  every  child  of  God  who 
knows  his  Father. 

The  new  year  is  often  treated  as  though  it 
were  a  new  beginning,  when  we  write  a  new 
date.  Some  magic  seems  to  divide  the  affairs 
of  19 —  from  the  affairs  of  19 — .  And  we 
talk  about  turning  over  a  new  leaf;  we  make 
resolutions.  But  in  reality  there  is  no  new  leaf 
to  turn  over.  There  is  no  past  to  bury  nor 
any  new  beginning  to  be  made.  The  new  year 
is  just  a  point  in  the  ring  of  Time,  —  an  imagi- 
nary point,  if  you  will ;  and  the  advantage  to 
be  had  from  it  is  that  it  brings  sharply,  clearly 
before  our  minds  both  the  known  meaning  and 
also  the  solemn  mystery  of  Time,  and  compels 
us  to  look  beyond  Time  into  that  immeas- 
urable Eternity  toward  which  Time  is  swiftly 
bearing  us. 

The  new  year  may  be  made  useful  if  we 

[  363  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

take  it  as  a  point  from  which  to  measure  our- 
selves and  test  the  effect  of  the  discipline  of 
Time  upon  our  souls. 

Are  we  better  men  and  women  than  we  were 
last  year,  —  sweeter  in  disposition,  purer  in 
heart,  more  patient  under  the  trials  of  our 
lives?  Do  we  care  more  for  truth?  Have 
we  gained  a  deeper  love  for  God  and  a  clearer 
vision  of  Him  ?  Have  we  an  increased  hunger 
and  thirst  after  righteousness  ?  Are  we  more 
unselfish  ?  Is  the  power  of  this  passing  world 
of  Time  growing  less,  and  the  power  of  the 
beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  growing  stronger 
within  us  ? 

The  sweet  hope  of  a  Happy  New  Year  to 
come  would  be  ours  if  we  could  answer  "  Yes  " 
to  such  questions  as  these ;  or  if  our  nearest 
friends,  who  know  us  best,  could  answer  for 
us  and  say,  "  Yes ;  there  has  been  growth  in 
his  soul,  in  her  life." 

And  the  reason  why  such  an  answer  would 
be  the  surest  pledge  of  a  Happy  New  Year  is 
that  the  discipline  of  Time  does  not  end  with 
the  old  year,  or  begin  with   the   new,  but  it 

[  364  ] 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    TIME 

goes  right  on,  year  by  year,  week  by  week, 
day  by  day,  hour  by  hour,  minute  by  minute. 
The  spiritual  gains  of  the  past  year  will  be 
carried  over  into  the  coming  year,  and  the 
spiritual   losses   also. 

Perhaps  we  dare  not  try  to  reckon  our  gains, 
perhaps  we  fear  to  face  our  losses ;  or  it  may 
be  that  we  know  them  so  mingled  that  we 
cannot  disentangle  them.  We  hope  we  may 
have  gained,  we  are  conscious  that  in  many 
things  we  have  come  short. 

So  Moses,  the  man  of  God,  must  have  felt 
when  he  wrote  this  Psalm.  Through  it  all 
the  thought  of  God's  eternity  is  set  over 
against  the  mournful  consciousness  of  human 
sin  and  frailty,  and  the  agonized  prayer  of  the 
Psalmist  is :  "  So  teach  us  to  number  our  days 
that  we  may  apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom  ! 
Return,  O  Lord,  how  long,  and  let  it  repent 
Thee  concerning  Thy  servants  !  " 

His  thought  comes  back  to  God ;  but  this 
time  he  claims,  not  the  clearing  of  the  mystery 
of  Him  in  whom  we  dwell,  —  this  time  he 
pleads  for  the  mercy  which   descends  out  of 

[  365  ] 


THE  BROTHER  AND  THE  BROTHERHOOD 

the  Person  of  the  Eternal  One  to  us  who  are 
still  living  in  Time:  "O  satisfy  us  early  with 
Thy  mercy,  that  we  may  rejoice  and  be  glad 
all  our  days." 

And  in  his  vision,  as  an  answer  to  his 
prayer,  the  very  pain  of  the  discipline  of  Time 
begins  to  glow  with  Eternal  Love :  "  Make 
us  glad  according  to  the  days  wherein  Thou 
hast  afflicted  us,  and  the  years  wherein  we 
have  seen  evil."  Bring  us  around  in  the  ring 
of  Time  through  its  trials  into  the  light  and 
glory  of  the  full  life  of  Him  who  is  our  dwell- 
ing-place. And  then,  like  the  spiritual  glory 
of  the  sunset  glow  after  a  day  of  storm,  the 
Psalm  closes  with  a  vision  of  splendor: 

"  Let  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  be 
upon  us,  and  establish  Thou  the  work  of  our 
hands  upon  us  ;  yea,  the  work  of  our  hands 
establish  Thou  it." 

If  we  have  found  God,  if  we  know  Him, 
if  we  are  resting  in  Him  who  is  our  eternal 
dwelling-place,  then,  as  we  wish  each  other 
a  Happy  New  Year,  our  wish,  our  hope,  pro- 
jects   itself    beyond    the    uncertainties   of    the 

[366] 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    TIME 

future  of  Time  into  the  Presence  of  the  un- 
changing glory  of  the  Beauty  of  the  Lord  our 
God,  and  in  the  vision  of  that  sure  hope  we 
know  that  no  vicissitudes  of  Time  can  wreck 
us ;  we  know  that  through  the  very  discipline 
of  the  mystery  Time,  through  its  trials  and  its 
darkness,  God's  work  is  being  done  in  us,  and 
we  are  sure  that  at  last  the  work  of  our  hands 
shall  be  established  upon  us. 


The  University  Press,  Cambridge,  U.  S.  A. 


Date  Due 

c 

-ixT 

flf^ 

AP   i     4;J 

(|) 

